Stone Cold
by weirdmixofsodapopanddallas
Summary: Motley Ace Curtis was Dallas Winston's best friend. And Sodapop's twin, but they're nothing alike. Soda's Soda, and Motley's... Well, Motley. (set at the end of the book. AU)
1. Motley Ace Curtis

**READ! 2nd PARAGRAPH IMPORTANT SO YOU'RE NOT LOST!**

 _Author's note: Hiya! So listen, I've had this idea floating around for a while, but I haven't done anything with it until now 'cause I wasn't sure how it'd be received. I'm still not. Please review and let me know._

 _Basically, this story starts right after Dally's been shot. I've given Soda a twin. If that bugs you, go ahead and tell me. If you're nice about it, I'll be nice. If you're mean, I'll be mean right back. I don't care. Now, I am changing a little bit of the canon story for the sake of my plot. Ponyboy does not get kicked in the head during the rumble, does not have a concussion, and does not get sick. Cool? Cool. Again, if that bugs you, above statement stands._

 _For the record, most of this will be from the twins point of view. Just 'cause._

 _Alright. Let's do this thing._

 **Disclaimer: I do not own the Outsiders. However, Motley is mine.**

 ** _Chapter 1: Motley Ace Curtis_**

MOTLEY'S POV

My name is Motley Ace Curtis. I'm Sodapop Curtis's twin.

Why Motley, you ask? Well, simple. Dad said that right away he could tell I would be different from my twin. Someone apart. And he was right.

Soda's nice. He's caring and sweet, and he loves everyone. I've got a bit of a mean streak. Being caring and sweet would ruin my rep, and I don't love much of anyone other than my brothers.

Much of anyone.

Either way, enough of the stupid introductions. Let's just get down to the story.

Dallas was dead. My very best friend. The only person on the face of the whole planet who had ever actually really got me. I know, it was sad about Johnny, but I was more torn up about Dallas. I knew Dal would kill me if he ever heard me say that, but that didn't change that it was true. Dallas meant more to me than the Cade kid ever had. And now he was gone.

And I suppose that's where our story starts. Dallas had been shot, blown to kingdom come, and now I was tearing through the streets of Tulsa, running from everyone and no one at the same time. I'd left my best friend's body and my brothers and other friends at the lot. I couldn't bear to stick around and watch whatever the hell it was the cops did with the bodies of the people they'd shot. Killed in the _line of duty_.

Murdered.

There. It's out there. I have a hard time with the 'line of duty' concept. I mean, yeah, sometimes a cop needs to shoot somebody, but c'mon, man, you need to understand the circumstances behind it first. This mess was a perfect example. Johnny'd just died, and the gun wasn't even loaded in the first place. And isn't there some rule somewhere that says 'don't fire till you're fired upon'? This was one of those times when the cops should've just left well enough alone.

I'd made it down by the tracks. Shepard's territory. But that was okay. I'd always got along with Tim, and we'd just fought together in the rumble. I didn't see any reason to expect any trouble from any of these guys tonight.

I turned a corner and ran smack into Tim.

"Damn it, Curtis, watch where the shit you're goin'." He half laughed as he helped me to my feet. Then he got a closer look at my face. I wasn't crying - tough greasers just don't do that - but I was close to it. "Whoa, man, what the shit happened?"

"What makes you think anything happened?"

"The fact that you look like you did when your parents died."

Wow. Did I really look like shit? That's what he meant. That's what he'd told me when he saw me at the funeral. Exact words: 'Curtis, you look like shit'. "Fine. Johnny's dead."

"Yeah, Winston told me. But that's it?"

He knew me too well. He knew that Johnny dying would get to me, but wouldn't get me as shook as I was. So he followed it through to the logical conclusion. Either I was a bigger pansy than he thought or something else was up. Even amidst it all, I felt flattered that he hadn't really considered the first option.

"Dallas is dead too."

Tim just stared at me for a second with this look on his face like a deer in headlights, then said quietly, "Well that explains this." He held a small black box out to me.

"What is it?" I asked, taking it.

"Winston came to see me about fifteen minutes ago. He told me the Cade kid was dead. He seemed real tore up about it. He gave that to me and said, 'give it to Motley, and if you open it or don't get it too him, I will come back and haunt you, you understand, dipshit?' At the time, I thought I just misheard him when he said hunt, but I guess he meant haunt as in ghost. Damn, Curtis, Winston's really dead?"

I nodded numbly, wondering what the hell could be in this box. What had Dallas felt important enough to get to me to resort to threatening Tim Shepard? We only did that when we were either real bored or real desperate. We liked being on good terms with Shepard too much. "Thanks, Tim."

"What happened? I'm guessin' since he talked like he knew what was gonna happen, it was some kinda suicide?"

I winced at his callous sentence, but that was just Tim Shepard for you. He switched off his emotions when he didn't want to feel. Dallas had too. So did I. "Suicide by cop. Knocked off a store, bothered to call us and ask us to meet him in the lot, then pulled an unloaded gun on the fuzz to get em to shoot him. You'd almost think he wanted an audience."

Tim shook his head. "What a way to go. See ya around, Curtis. I think the big one might murder you if ya don't get home soon."

"See ya, Tim." I muttered, turning right back around and walking slowly towards home.

Dal hadn't wanted an audience. I knew him better than that. No. In reality, Dallas was being decent in his own way, making sure the only people left who meant anything to him knew what became of him.

And he didn't want to die alone.

That thought just made me stop and cry. I was down an alley and nobody could see me, so I didn't bother to try and stop it. I just crouched behind a dumpster until the sobs had subsided. Then I straightened up, brushed the tears off, and continued home.

I didn't get there for a few hours, which is a personal best, even for me. Usually I can't help walking faster than that, but for some reason, tonight, I didn't have it in me to go more than a snail's pace. When I walked in the front door, everybody was just lounging around smoking.

Darry looked up when I walked in. "Motley?"

I didn't grace him with a response. I just sat down on the floor right there next to the door. I didn't have it in me to move another step. I didn't care anymore.

"Motley?" Soda said gently, coming and sitting next to me.

I didn't respond to him either. I didn't feel like talking to anyone. Why should I? The only person I wanted to talk to had been dead before he hit the ground.

Not fair. He got what he wanted. Why couldn't I?

Soda noticed the little black box. "What's this?" He tapped it with his finger.

I jerked it away from him. It was Dal's last present to me. Nobody else was ever gonna touch it. Ever.

Soda looked startled. "Whoa, man, sorry. Just lookin' for a conversation piece."

I knew I was being hard on him, I knew he was just trying to make it better and help me even though he had no idea how, but I didn't care. I didn't care about much of anything at this point.

"You didn't steal it, did you?" Darry said, accusing in a way only Darry and Mom had ever been able to pull off.

I just glared at him. No, I hadn't stolen it. Why was he always assuming that was what I'd done? Just because I did it on a regular basis, that didn't mean everything I walked in the door with was potential crime scene evidence.

Soda noticed a little piece of paper on the bottom of the box that I hadn't seen before. He ripped it off without even giving me a chance to stop him and looked at it. His eyes welled up with tears. "Oh, Motley. Okay. I get it."

He set the piece of paper back on the top of the box. Now I could see what it said.

For Motley Curtis

From Dallas Winston

Never forget, man. Never forget me.

I'm sorry.

"What's it say?" Darry questioned impatiently.

I didn't want to share this with him of all people, but Soda didn't give me much of a choice, grabbing the note back off the box and handing it over.

Darry stared at it for a second before looking back up at me with a pained expression on his face. "Oh, baby."

I stood up abruptly, snatched the note out of his hand, and stalked back off to my bedroom. Baby? Had he seriously just called me that? I wasn't a baby. I was going to be seventeen in two weeks. He didn't just get to call me 'baby'. That wasn't how this worked. Where did he think he got off calling me that?

I sat down on my bed, staring at the little box in my hands. What was in it? I wanted to know, but at the same time, all I wanted to do was bury it with Dal's body and never look at it again. But I knew better than to do that. That was just right now. Sooner or later, the itch to know what Dal's last present was would get to me and I'd go dig up his grave to get it.

I slowly opened the lid. The first thing I saw was a folded up piece of paper. I gently lifted it off, then stared, transfixed, at what was inside. Holy shit.

It was the necklace and skull ring Dal always wore. He never took them off. Never.

I picked up the piece of paper, curious, wanting to know the reasoning behind this.

Motley,

You're my best friend man. I just thought it would be right if you had these. I'm so sorry for bailing on you this way. I know it's wrong, but I can't help it. I can't stay here. Not like this.

If you want to know where these things come from, the necklace I stole out of my mom's jewelry box right after her funeral and right before I ran away. The skull ring was my last birthday present from my twin kid brothers, Anthony and Joey, who would be about Ponyboy's age if they were still with us, if you know what I mean..

I want you to have them because you're practically my family and these are things that should be kept in a family. I love you like a brother man. Never forget that.

See ya in hell,

Dallas

Oh hell. Oh shit. Oh hell oh shit ohhellohshitohhellohshit…

I gently lifted the necklace out of the box and slipped it around my neck. I wasn't ever gonna take it off. And I would never give it to somebody else. I wanted to be buried in it. I slipped the skull ring on my finger. The same went for this. These were the only worldly possessions Dallas had treasured, and he'd thought it was worth it to give them to me. So I would treasure them to.

His note left me with a lot more questions than answers. Mom? Little brothers? Run away? Granted, I'd never seen Dal's old man, but I'd always assumed he was here in Tulsa somewhere and that Dal at least went back there occasionally. Now, I honestly just didn't know. His dad… was he still in New York somewhere? I knew Dal hadn't been to any funerals except my parents', so that meant his mom's funeral would have to have been before he came here, and it sounded like he'd run away right after that.

I sighed, slipped the notes inside the box, then put the thing in the bottom drawer of my dresser. It was where I kept anything important. It was where I put my last Christmas and birthday cards from Mom and Dad. The note of encouragement Darry had left on my nightstand the day after they died. And now Dal's last words were going in there too.

I took a chair, wedged it underneath the door handle, then flopped down on my bed. I was so happy I was alone and had the power to keep it that way. I really wasn't in the mood to deal with anyone just then.

XxXxX

Let's clear one thing up right now. I bet a lot of you out there are going 'why the hell does he get his own room? Isn't Soda his twin? Shouldn't they share?'

Okay, here's the deal.

Soda, Ponyboy, and me all used to share. As I'm sure you can imagine, it was a tight fit. Darry had a room and Mom and Dad had one. When Mom and Dad died, Darry moved into their old room and Soda and I moved into his old one. When Ponyboy started having nightmares, Soda moved back in to help him not be scared, and even though I'd gotten the invitation to come back too, in typical teenager fashion, I told them no. I finally had my own room for the first time in my life and they thought I was just going to give that up?

That's what I dreamed about that night. In my head, I told my brothers over and over again that I was going to stay where I was and watched the disappointment wash over Ponyboy's face. Soda did a better job of concealing it, but I could tell he was disappointed too. Dallas told me I'd made the smart decision and this way I could sneak out in the middle of the night if we wanted to do something Darry wouldn't approve of. Which I did. All the time.

Then the same thing happened again. It was like a broken record. That's certainly how I'd felt the night before and how I felt when I woke up the next morning.

Broken.


	2. The Votes Of Confidence Are Overwhelming

_Author's note: Hi! Once again we return to the pissy Motley Curtis. I hope y'all don't hate him._

 **Disclaimer: The Outsiders is not mine. Motley is though, and you touch him, you die. At least, without permission.**

 _ **Chapter 2: The Votes Of Confidence Are Overwhelming**_

MOTLEY'S POV

My wake up call was Darry pounding on my door. "Motley Ace Curtis, you open this door right now, damn it!"

I didn't answer and simply put my pillow over my face. No way in hell. I wanted to shut out the world for a few more hours. I clutched Dal's necklace in my hand, hoping it would give me some of his strength and confidence and attitude once Darry found a way in. Y'know, kinda like a contact high.

Notice I said 'once Darry found a way in' not 'if Darry found a way in'?

Yeah.

I suppose Darry backed up, then rammed the door with his shoulder, because I heard the chair's legs break and the door slam open. I didn't pull the pillow off my face. I didn't want to see or talk to my older brother just then.

Darry ripped the pillow off my face. I looked up at him, taking in the petrified expression on his face.

"Glory, Motley." he breathed, the panic wearing off and anger replacing it. "I thought you'd tried to suffocate yourself. What the hell's the matter with you?"

I was confused. What gave him the idea I was trying to kill myself?

Then it clicked. Locked door… pillow over face… life shattering event which had caused a lot of distress yesterday… the fact I hadn't spoken a word to anyone since I'd been home…

Okay. I suppose it made sense.

"Motley Ace, you answer me this instant."

I hadn't realized I was spacing off. I just shrugged and got up. Like I said, I wasn't really in the mood to deal with Darry just then.

When I got out to the living room, Soda and Ponyboy were sitting at the table, eating chocolate cake. Excuse me, picking at chocolate cake.

Soda looked up at me worriedly. "Hey, Motley. Sleep good?"

I didn't respond and just sat down, resting my left hand on the table.

Ponyboy noticed Dal's necklace and ring right off the bat. "Where'd you get those?" he said.

Soda looked over at me, confused, and so did Darry, who'd just walked in the room, then their expressions cleared as they saw too. "Is that what was in the box, Motley?" Soda asked tentatively.

I just gave him a look like he was dumber than dirt, then got up to take a shower.

I heard Darry sigh behind me as Soda said, "Dar, I'm scared. He ain't said anythin' since last night."

"He'll cool off." Darry assured him, even though he didn't sound too convinced himself. "Just give him some time. You know how Motley is."

I closed the bathroom door and looked at myself in the mirror. 'You know how Motley is'? What the shit was that supposed to mean? Darry didn't know me. He didn't know anything about me. And what made him think this was just a simple matter of 'cooling off'? This was way more than cooling off. This was getting over the fact that a whole piece of my life was gone, a whole person was missing.

I felt like there was a giant hole in my chest that was about to swallow me up and there'd be no Motley left to know.

By the time I was done showering, I suppose Darry and Soda had left for work because everything was quiet. I decided it was safe to leave the sanctuary of the bathroom. I didn't mind the idea of being alone with Ponyboy. He was a good kid, and out of everyone, I was pretty sure he'd understand how I was feeling better than any of them.

I was not expecting what I got.

They were all three in the living room, Darry on the recliner, Soda and Ponyboy on the floor, waiting for me.

"Motley," Darry said in a tone that made it obvious he wasn't asking, "Sit down."

I lounged out on the couch, looking like a lazy panther who had better things to do. I gave him the cool, tough look that conveyed the same meaning that I reserved for cops and socs.

"So that's where our relationship's got to, is it?" he asked, and I knew he was talking about my demeanor. He knew what I reserved it for too.

I shrugged. So what?

"Motley," Soda said gently, "we just want to help you and we can't if you won't talk to us."

"I thought Darry was all for givin' him time." Pony mumbled and I smiled at him, glad to see someone in this room was on my side.

"Kiddo," Darry said a little more gently than usual, "sometimes if you wait too long, the situation just gets worse. I'll explain later, okay?"

I blinked, shocked. If there was one thing I'd always been able to count on, one thing Ponyboy and I had always shared, it was that Darry treated us both badly. He was constantly yelling at one or the other of us, usually both of us. What was happening?

Darry turned back to face me. "Motley, I need you to talk to us."

I just raised an eyebrow, something Two-Bit picked up from me. (That's right, you didn't mishear me: Two-Bit picked that up from _**me**_ ) If he thought I was going to spill my guts to him, than he had another thing coming.

He sighed. "Motley, please."

I continued to just look at him. I didn't feel like talking, so I wasn't going to talk. How hard was that for him to get through his thick head? I mean, jeez, I knew he was a jock, but I didn't think it was this bad.

Soda finally turned to look at Darry and said, "Maybe we just oughta lay off. Y'know, at least for a couple days. It's still brand new."

Smarter words were never spoken.

Darry sighed again and pinched the bridge of his nose before he answered. "Alright. Alright." He looked me in the eye. "I gotta go to work, kiddo, but remember that anytime you need to talk, I'm right here. I'm always ready and willing, no matter what's goin' on. I love you, after all."

I nodded, then stood up, grabbed my jacket, and walked out the door. I wasn't sure exactly where I was going, I just knew I couldn't stand to stay in that house with everyone right then.

I wandered aimlessly around town for hours, but finally I wound up outside Tulsa city limits, looking for solitude. Being around other people was hell. All the greasers did was give me their condolences. All the socs did was jeer and laugh and tell me Dal got what he had coming. Yeah, those were the people I left bleeding in alleys. I must've beat up twenty people on my way out of town. All the adults did was look at me like they thought I was dirt and clutch their purses or kids closer, or put their hands in their pockets over their wallets.

Thanks, guys. The votes of confidence are overwhelming.

When I'd finally got so far out of town I wasn't even sure where I was anymore, I stopped and sat down, leaning against the fence. What else was I supposed to do? Go back into town? Beat up twenty more people? I couldn't keep winning forever. I was bound to lose at some point. Who did they think I was?

So instead I just settled for sitting here on the side of the road, ignoring the passing cars and thinking about how bad life sucked. By the time I was done, I was thoroughly depressed. It was just like Dallas always told me. Life's a bitch, then you die. Was there anything after this? Would I ever see Dallas or Mom or Dad again? Even the thought of never seeing Johnny again made me sad. Despite the fact I'd never had much to do with the kid, there was still something about him that made everyone his big brother, and I had cared about him a little.

I shivered. It was freezing out here. I had my jacket, and that usually kept me warm, but it just didn't seem to be doing the trick today.

"That's what you get for wandering all the way out here with no way back, Motley." a voice I knew very well said.

I looked sideways. "Dal?"

Dallas Winston smirked back at me. "Yeah. But this ain't real, if that's what you're thinkin'."

"What the shit's that supposed to mean?"

"You're dreamin', Motley."

"So I fell asleep?"

"No shit, Sherlock."

"You ain't real, are ya? You're just part of my dream."

"And that's where you're wrong, Motley. I'm the only part of your dream that's real. This is the only place I can talk to you." Dallas came and sat down next to me. "Darry's worried sick."

"Why?"

"Motley, you got any idea what time it is?"

"No."

"Well it's two o'clock in the morning, kiddo." Dal said, doing his incredibly accurate Darry impression.

"Not funny, Dal."

He shrugged, lighting up two cigarettes then handing one to me. "It was a little funny."

"What did ya mean when you said you're the only part of my dream that's real and this is the only place you can talk to me?"

"I'm dead, Motley, if that's what you're gettin' at. I can't talk to you when you're awake. That's the world of the living and it ain't an option for me. But here you're in some weird little in between where the dead and the living can have contact."

"Does Pone talk to Johnny?"

"That's what they're doin' right now."

"Why don't Mom and Dad ever come?"

Dallas looked at me for a minute. He knew all the emotion behind that question. He knew it was one of the worst days of my life when I lost my parents. He could hear the accusatory 'they don't love me' in my question. "Motley, they knew it would just dig up a bunch of feelings better left buried if you know what I mean. Even though they wanted to see you, they knew it would be best for everyone if you all just let go. Most spirits don't do this. Most of them know it's better the other way."

"But you're doin' it."

"That's 'cause I don't care what's better. You're my best friend, and if I wanna talk to you, then I'm gonna damn well talk to you." He looked down at the necklace and ring I was wearing, my brand new additions. "You got em."

"Yeah."

"I honestly thought Shepard might steal them. But I couldn't think of anyone else I was willing to give that to that I could maybe trust to get it to you without looking."

"Shepard was tore up about you dyin'."

"It's Shepard. He doesn't get tore up about anythin'."

"Yeah he does. He's just good at hidin' it."

"When'd you get so good at reading people?"

I shrugged. "Dunno. I used to suck."

Dallas looked up suddenly. He was staring at something I couldn't see. "I gotta go. Darry's comin', and as long as I'm talkin' to you, you can't wake up. I don't even wanna imagine how bad that would freak him out. First you disappear all day, so he's already worried enough, then he finds you on the side of the road leaning against a fence and you won't wake up? That just ain't a good combination, man, y'know? Look, I'll talk to you some more later, okay?"

I nodded. "See ya soon, Dal."

And just like that, Darry was shaking me awake.

XxXxX

 ** _TA_ _DA!_**

 _If you have issues with them being able to talk in dreams, kiss my ass._


	3. Really? I Hadn't Realized

_Author's note: Hello again! Did anyone else get snow lately? 'Cause we did, which weirds me out. Usually, if it hasn't snowed a lot by now, it isn't gonna. It was a welcome surprise. I went sledding and managed to slam into the sidewalk, hit my head on the cement, and get yelled at for the police chief's wife for hitting the windshield of her car with a snowball. Before you ask, yes, it was on purpose. Anybody else have an eventful week? Struggles. Either way, that's probably way to much about me, and I'm assuming none of you care, so let's just move on to the story. We all know it's what you wanna do anyhow, so don't bother denying it._

 **Disclaimer: The Outsiders is not mine in any way, shape, or form. Motley, however, is. Also, there'll be a topic at the end of the chapter which is kinda heavy. You've been warned.**

 ** _Chapter 3: Really? I hadn't realized_**

MOTLEY'S POV

"Motley! Motley Ace, answer me!"

I groaned and blinked, then looked up at Darry. He sighed in relief and sat back.

"Are you hurt?"

Still pretty much asleep and not thinking clearly, I answered honestly and nodded.

His worried expression intensified. "What happened? Where?" He was looking all over the front of me, obviously hunting for blood or bruises. But that wasn't the kind of hurt I meant.

I pointed at my heart.

The look on his face made me just break down bawling. I just lost it. I sobbed, hard, into his shoulder, and he just pulled me close and let me. "It's okay. You're gonna be okay. I know it hurts right now, but it'll get better. I promise."

I guess he didn't want to stay out there in the cold, because he lifted me in his arms and gently carried me to the truck. He set me in the seat and drove home, while I leaned against the window and cried. I just couldn't handle it.

When we got home, he carried me in. I didn't care. I knew I wouldnt've had it in me to get up those steps and in through the house to my bedroom anyway. I just went on bawling into his shoulder.

Ponyboy and Soda were both in the living room, and when Darry walked in with me crying on his shoulder, Soda was on his feet and over next to us in a second. "Is he okay? What happened? Is he hurt? Motley, where're you hurt?"

Darry just shook Soda off and whispered, "He's not hurt that way, Soda."

I could feel Soda staring at me, so I buried my face further into Darry's shoulder. I didn't want to face the world just then.

Darry carried me off and laid me down in my bed. "You just sleep. I'll see you in the morning. Okay?"

I nodded, and he left while I went on bawling into my pillow.

I could hear Soda and Ponyboy immediately resume questioning him the minute he got out to the living room. Our house is so small, you can hear basically everything that goes on inside it.

"Is he alright?"

"What happened?"

"Darry, where did you find him?"

"Did someone hurt him? 'Cause if they did, I'll damn well _**kill**_ them. He's been through enough this last year."

"Exactly." Darry interrupted. "He's been through enough this last year. That's what he's cryin' about, alright? Leave it alone. I mean, how would you feel if you lost Steve, Soda?"

There was silence out there for a minute.

"I know how he feels." Ponyboy muttered. "First Mom and Dad… then he lost Dal… and I lost Johnny…" It sounded like he'd started crying.

"Oh, baby, c'mere." Soda said gently. "It's gonna be okay. We'll get through this together."

It was like it was just hitting them how hard this was for Ponyboy too. Just because I was showing more outward signs, they were only paying attention to me and how this was affecting me. I was hogging all the attention. I felt so horrible about that. I didn't want to take anything away from my kid brother, least of all the help of our other brothers when he needed it most.

I buried my head under my pillow, trying to block out the sound, and bawled until I fell asleep.

XxXxX

"Motley? Honey?"

I stirred, then blinked blearily up at Darry.

"Hey, baby, how ya feelin'?"

There was that word again. Baby. I wasn't a baby. I hadn't been a baby since... well, ever. Okay? Just, never.

But whatever. At this point, I was honestly willing to let it slide.

There were a lot of things I wanted to say in answer, but I wasn't sure how to put them into words, so I just shrugged.

Darry sighed. "Motley, ya can't just quit talking for good. Say something."

I just shrugged again and gave him this look like 'Yeah, sure' and stood up and walked out of the room. I went into the bathroom and shut the door.

My one place of refuge. The bathroom. How sad and pitiful is that?

I looked at myself in the mirror and saw something I'd never seen before and never wanted to see again. I saw a broken blonde boy with big, sad brown eyes who looked like he hadn't slept in a month and had spent that whole time crying. That wasn't me. I was better than that. I was Motley Ace Curtis, and I didn't cry and get tore up over something as simple as someone dying. I was tougher than that. I was one of the toughest hoods in town. Now that Dal was gone, I think I was second only to Tim Shepard in terms of how much trouble I'd been in and what kind of a rep I had. So why was I bawling my eyes out over something so trivial?

"I ain't never gonna cry again." I whispered to my reflection. "I promise. Is that why I have been? 'Cause I didn't promise the first time? Well, whatever it is, I promise this is the last time. I won't be a charity case. Not anymore. Maybe I'll feel so sad and so broken down I don't see any purpose to anything anymore, but I won't cry. Never again." I wiped the tear tracks off my face, greased my hair, and left the bathroom. Screw showering. I could do that later.

The minute I entered the kitchen, Darry shoved a plate of chocolate cake into my hands. "Eat. You didn't eat anythin' yesterday."

"Really? I hadn't realized." I muttered sarcastically, sitting down.

Darry looked up at me, startled, then said, "You're talking."

"Of course I'm talkin'. What, ya think I lost the ability of speech? My best friend died. I didn't have my tongue cut out." Sure wish it'd been the other way around.

"Why didn't you talk at all for the last day and a half then?"

"I didn't have anything to say. Waste of air. Heaven knows there's little enough of it."

"Never stopped you before."

"Let's just say I gained some new perspective." There was a moment of silence while everyone watched me quietly. Then I looked over at Ponyboy, who seemed to be about ready to break down bawling. "Ain't that right, Pone?"

He nodded, then said quietly, "New perspective."

I looked at him more closely. He looked as bad as I had when I looked at myself in the mirror. "Ponykid, is there anythin' ya wanna talk about? Stuff that, y'know, nobody else gets?"

Soda and Darry looked at me, hurt, but Ponyboy looked up hopefully. "I wouldn't mind."

"You first. What d'you wanna talk about?"

"How do you get rid of that… feeling?"

I knew what feeling he was talking about. That hole. That gut wrenching pain of having a gaping, empty hole in your chest that you couldn't seem to get rid of. And it was because you knew you weren't ever gonna see them again.

But if my dream last night was indication, we could see them in our dreams and Johnny had already been to see Ponyboy. Maybe he hadn't explained adequately the way Dallas did. Or maybe that was just a weird dream. One or the other.

"Ponykid, did you dream about Johnny last night?"

Ponyboy stared at me with this look on his face like 'how the hell did you know that?' "Yeah."

"I dreamed about Dal last night. He said that he can come talk to me when I'm asleep and that Johnny can come talk to you. I thought maybe it was just a psycho dream, but now… I dunno."

"Okay." Ponyboy looked more hopeful than I'd seen him look in… I don't even know how long. "This is great!"

"Ain't it though?" I said with a little smirk. Then I turned to Darry and Soda. "Of course, I'm sure you guys think I've got a screw loose."

Soda bit his lip, but Darry nodded forcefully. "It was just a dream, Motley. Don't get your hopes up. He's gone. They're both gone. And they ain't never comin' back. They can't come to you in your sleep. It ain't possible."

I'd grown up believing Darry my whole life when it came to stuff like this, so it honestly shook my conviction at this point. I paused and bit my lip just the way Soda was. That's the annoying thing about being twins. You don't really have anything that's just yours. They even bite their lip the same way as you do, y'know?

"There, see?" Darry said, nodding, satisfied. "Now that we got that cleared up."

I looked back over at Ponyboy. He looked about ready to cry again. "I'm goin' out." I muttered, standing up, slipping on my shoes, and grabbing my jacket.

"Motley, ya didn't eat anythin' again." Darry called after me.

"I ain't hungry."

"You come back this time around, you hear me?"

"Yeah, alright, I got it."

Darry had no idea how close I would come to not coming back ever.

XxXxX

I went over to the 11th street bridge. It was a place I'd always gone to think. It was just oddly soothing to sit there on the railing and watch the Tulsa skyline, dangling your feet over oblivion. Knowing that one day, if it all got to be too much, you could just say 'screw it' and take the plunge.

And that's what I was thinking about doing.

Was it really so wrong? Darry had always painted up suicide as some awful thing, but Dal had done it, and Darry hadn't cursed him and called him hellspawn for it. He wouldn't do that to me, right? Honestly, it reality, I was pretty sure that he didn't actually think suicide was an abomination. He thought it was as sad as the rest of us. He just didn't want any of us, his precious brothers, to do it, so he made it sound like that's what he thought. That was all.

Everyone died eventually. If there was one thing I knew, it was that. Why bother with life if it was over so soon? Was there really any point? I mean, my parents and best friend were already dead. That was fifty percent of the total people in this world who mean anything to me. Why not just take myself out of the equation? You'd almost think I was a jinx or something. Maybe if I was gone, Soda and Darry and Ponyboy would have a chance. 'Cause if I didn't go, which one of them was going to be next?

NO. I couldn't think like this. I was Motley Ace Curtis. I did _**not**_ consider suicide. I did _**not**_ run from a fight. And this life was the wildest fight of all.

No, I knew what I really needed to do. I needed to do what I'd been told worked my whole life. I needed to talk to someone who I could trust. Someone who could help me.

I needed to talk to Darry.

 _I told y'all it'd be a little heavy at the end. Anyone else ever been called hellspawn? Anyone? Anyone? Bueller?_

 _Either way, please review. I know you people are reading things. Don't think I can't see the traffic graph. All you hiding out there, really, I'd love to know what you think. Please?_

 _Ugh, sounding needy again. Shutting up now._


	4. Caught Off Guard

_Author's note: Hello everybody! I swear, I would've posted this yesterday, but my parents don't let me anywhere near a computer on Sunday. So, sorry for the extra twenty-four hours._

 _Also, I think I probably should've mentioned earlier that this song is loosely based on the song "_ Stone Cold _" by Demi Lovato. Not usually the kind of music I spend my time listening to, just not my genre most of the time, but I heard this song on the radio one day and these idea just started making an appearance. I really honestly should've said something about this earlier, but honestly, this is the first chapter the song has any bearing on. Oh well. Better late than never._

 _PLEASE REVIEW! I'M BEGGING YOU! IT'S ONE OF THE FEW THINGS THAT CAN MAKE ME SQUEAL LIKE A LITTLE GIRL OTHER THAN ROB LOWE! YOU SHOULD BE PROUD OF GETTING THAT KIND OF RESPONSE OUT OF ME!_

 _I sound too needy again. Moving on._

 **Disclaimer: Absolutely none of this is mine. I really really** ** _really_** **wish it was, but hear we sit.**

 ** _Chapter 4: Caught Off Guard_**

MOTLEY'S POV

When I walked in at about seven, the house was empty. I paused and stared. Empty? The house was never empty this time of night. This was the loudest time of day.

I looked around. "Guys?"

I went down the hallway and started looking through bedrooms. "Guys? Hello?"

I heard the front door open and close.

"Hello?"

"In here, Motley." Darry called.

I sighed in relief. Just the man I wanted to see. I headed out to the living room.

Darry dropped some bags of groceries on the table. He hadn't taken off his jacket or shoes yet, which I found a little odd. But what did it matter? He was here. We could talk now. He said we could talk whenever, no matter what he was doing, because he loved me.

Because he loved me.

"Dar? Can we talk?"

"Sorry, Motley." he said distractedly. "I got a date with Cealia tonight."

"Who's Cealia?" I asked, caught off guard.

Darry turned to me and smiled. "She's this girl I been seein' for about six months now. She's amazing, Motley. I think I'm in love."

He started for the door, then paused and looked back. "We can talk later, okay?"

"Don't bother." I said.

"What?"

I was trying really hard to keep it together. I'd wanted to talk to my older brother, get help, and now he was leaving me here by myself for some chick. "It wasn't important anyhow. Just go have a good time on your date."

He looked at me strangely for a second, then nodded and headed out the door.

I waited until I heard the car leave before I leaned against the wall and slowly slid down it to the floor. Maybe I'd never let myself be seen anything but standing by anyone else, but when I was alone, I could let go. I wrapped my arms around my knees and hugged them tightly.

I'd never really been willing to talk to anybody about my problems. That just wasn't my personality. I kept things close to my chest. But now, when I was finally willing to open up to someone, Darry left me hanging. Even though he told me I could talk to him whenever, wherever, no matter what was going on. Instead he was abandoning me for a broad he hadn't even known for a whole year. He'd known me for almost _**seventeen**_ years. What the hell, man? Did he care about her more than me?

I knew that was an unfair thought and pushed it out of my mind the minute I had it, but the seeds were planted for a lot of doubt to come.

Did he love her more than me?

XxXxX

"Motley?" a confused voice asked.

I looked up. Sodapop and Steve were standing in front of me. I hadn't moved from where I was, leaning against the wall, arms wrapped around my knees, head bowed. No wonder they were giving me weird looks. I would be too.

I stood up quickly. "Yeah, what's up?"

Soda looked at me closely. "Why don't you tell me?"

"Why would anythin' be up with me? I was just sitting."

"On the floor. In the corner."

"I was tired, and I didn't want to move from where I was, okay?"

"You were already in the corner?"

"Well, thank you for the thorough questioning, Detective Curtis. I wasn't aware I'd been hauled in."

Soda looked hurt. I hated cops, and I never compared anyone to one lightly.

I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. "I'm sorry, Soda. I just... I got a lot to deal with right now, and I don't feel like explainin' myself, savvy?"

He got this really sad expression on his face that just made me feel worse. "Motley, if ya need to talk…"

"I already tried that." I snapped.

"And?"

"It didn't work out, okay? What else is there to say?"

"Motley, did somethin' happen while I was gone?"

"No. I just… and Darry just… and…"

"Have you two been fightin' again? Look, I know you butt heads a lot…"

"No, we didn't fight. He just…" I paused, not sure what to say. It was painfully obvious I wasn't getting out of here without giving some kind of satisfactory explanation. "I asked if we could talk, but he was busy. He had to go on a _**date**_ with his _**girlfriend**_ who he's apparently _**in love with**_." I paused, startled at the bitterness and sarcasm that had filled my tone. "But whatever." I went on, making an effort to sound casual, but failing. "It ain't important. I don't need to talk to no one to get help. I can handle this myself."

"Yeah, sittin' on the floor looking like you just kinda wanna cry. Looks like you're handlin' it real well." Steve muttered.

"You shut the hell up before I put a switchblade between your eyes." I said, my voice low and dangerous.

"Motley!" Soda looked appalled.

"I can't do this right now." I muttered. "I just can't." I turned and went out the back door.

XxXxX

When I got back hours later, I paused on the porch when I heard Soda and Darry talking in the kitchen.

"Soda, are you upset with me or somethin'?"

"I ain't. Motley is."

There was a pause. "What's he upset about?"

"Darry, do ya remember when he told you he wanted to talk today?"

"Yeah…"

"What'd you think that was about, his grades? You told him you were always there to talk, whenever, wherever, no matter what was going on, because you love him. And, the way he sees it, when he finally managed to get up the nerve to talk, when he was finally willing to open up to another human being for once in his life, you blew him off for some chick."

"Cealia isn't just some chick."

"That ain't the point, Darry."

Darry sighed. "I had a date. What can I say? I couldn't just blow her off."

"But you _**could**_ just blow off your brother? Who I think you made an agreement to first, when you swore to be his guardian?"

There was an uncomfortable silence inside.

"Never mind. I _**am**_ upset with you." Soda said, and I heard the sound of him walking through the house and his door slamming.

I waited a couple minutes before I walked in, concealing a whiskey bottle under my jacket. Darry was sitting on the couch, not even watching TV, just looking kind of forlorn. When he heard me come in, he looked up.

"Motley." he said, almost sounding a little desperate. "Honey, we can talk now. As long as you want. About whatever you want."

I smirked slightly, a little drunk. I knew what I was about to do was mean - bordering on cruel - but I didn't much care. I pulled the whiskey bottle out from under my jacket and waved it in his general direction. "Sorry, Dar. I got a date with Jack Daniels tonight."

"Motley..." he whispered, looking shocked.

"It's this bottle I been seein' for about as long as Mom and Dad've been dead. It's amazing, Darry. I think I'm in love."

I started towards my bedroom, then paused and looked back. "We can talk later, okay?"

I smirked even wider at the look of hurt on his face as I took a swig out of the bottle and went off to bed.

XxXxX

When I woke up the next morning, Soda was sitting next to me, watching me.

"Shit, Soda." I groaned. "Don't do that. It ain't decent in anyone but a real hot blonde."

"I was under the impression that's what I am."

"Hardy har har." I muttered, sitting up.

Soda smiled, then got all serious on me again, which sort of freaked me out if I'm being honest. Soda didn't get serious all that often. "Motley, I know Darry hurt you, but what you did last night was low."

"I just told him the same thing he told me. Y'know, with a few modified words."

"He said you came back here with a full bottle of jack daniels. How are you not hungover?"

"I didn't drink the whole thing, Soda."

He looked around the room. "Then where is it?"

"I threw it out the window. Suddenly it became the 'Darry cares about Cealia more than you' reminder."

Soda stared at me in horror. "Is that really what you think? That Darry cares about Cealia more than you? Motley, that ain't true. You're his little brother. He loves you."

"Coulda fooled me."

"Stop it." Soda said, looking close to tears. "Stop it right now. This ain't okay. Nothing about this is okay. We're a family. We're all we got left. We can't start this. Not now. Not when we need each other. We have to pull through. We just have to."

I stared at my twin in shock. "Soda, c'mon… I didn't mean it like that. I just meant… I just meant that it's real hard sometimes, y'know?"

"Yeah, I guess so." he whispered, looking down. "Come have some breakfast, okay? You ain't eaten anythin' in two days."

"Alright." I said, standing up. It was really more to satisfy him than anything. I just wasn't hungry. "But Soda, you gotta promise not to tell Darry what I just told you."

Soda stared at me, caught off guard. "But… Motley, how can you guys fix it if Darry's got no idea?"

"Soda, I'll tell him and we'll fix it, I swear, just… not today. I can't. I ain't in a good place right now."

Soda nodded. "Okay. If it really means that much to you. Just… you'll let me know if I can help you, won't ya?"

"Sodapop, I dunno if anyone can help me anymore." I said, finally letting my despair show through. My pain. "Talkin' to Darry was sorta a last ditch effort, y'know?"

I saw Soda's jaw tense and his eyes hardened. "Yeah. I know."

Then he got up too, and we went out to breakfast together.

XxXxX

 _Don't hate me, guys. Please. I love Darry so much, he's just so easy to do these kinds of things to._

 _AND PLEASE REVIEW!_


	5. But It's Not So Simple

Author's _note: Happy Johnny's birthday everybody! I was gonna post this tomorrow, but in light of the occasion, I thought I'd post it now. Besides, I'm going over to my uncle's and watching a movie after school tomorrow anyway, which would've made finding time to post this difficult anyhow. Especially since my parents are getting more strict about computer time. Ugh. But of course, none of this matters to all y'all and it's probably too much information about me anyhow, so let's just get on with the story._

 **Disclaimer: The Outsiders is not mine. Otherwise, I never would've let Rob Lowe leave the set. I would've taken him home with me.**

 _ **Chapter 5: But It's Not So Simple**_

MOTLEY'S POV

I was halfway through my third piece of chocolate cake when Darry came in, showered, shaved, and ready for work. He came over and sat down next to me. The room was empty. Soda and Ponyboy had already left.

"Motley," he said slowly, "honey, please just talk to me."

"I already told you, I don't wanna."

"Motley, please. I know I did somethin' I shouldnt've, but can't we just put all that behind us? If you wanna talk, we can talk now."

I stood up, went over to the couch, and flicked on the TV. "Too little, too late."

"No." Darry said, coming and sitting next to me. "It's never too late. Never. Not for us. We're a family. We can still get through this. Motley, honey, you need to talk. So talk." It sounded so simple when he put it like that.

But it's not so simple. Not this time.

When I remained silent he went on. "We don't need to get into the big stuff right now. Let's start with something small. Where did you go before you and I saw each other yesterday?"

"Which time?" I muttered sullenly. I didn't really wanna do this, but it was obvious I wasn't gonna get out of here without talking about _**something**_. So this might as well be the something.

"The first time. When I told you… when I told you we could talk later."

"Okay. I went down to the 11th street bridge. Sat on the railing."

"Why?" he sounded scared, and suddenly I realized he knew what was coming.

"Well, for a couple reasons. One, I like it there. It's where I go to think."

"And?" He sounded a little less nervous now. Wow. Suddenly I felt mean for luring him into a false sense of security.

"Two, I was trying to decide if… if…"

"If what, baby?"

There was that word again. Why did he keep using it? I wasn't a baby. I was Motley Ace Curtis. Bet you anything you've never met anything less like a baby in your life. Babies are innocent. Me...

Not so much.

"C'mon, you can get it out. You know you can."

My voice got extra quiet, almost like I was hoping he wouldn't hear what I had to say. "I was trying to decide if, when it comes to sticking it out in life when you lose someone, if Dal had the right idea."

Darry went pale. "Motley, please tell me you're joking."

"Don't sweat it, Darry." I said, suddenly reverting back to my usual casual, cocky manner. "I thought it through, and I know Dal was bein' stupid. You don't gotta worry about me jumpin' off the nearest convenient building any time soon."

Darry put an arm around my shoulders. "Motley-"

I shrugged his arm off. "We ain't patched up that good, man. Just… drop it, 'kay?"

He stared at me for a second, then I stood up and grabbed my jacket and shoes from by the door where I'd left them. "I gotta go, Darry. Those dogs ain't gonna take care of themselves."

"Well, I'd really prefer it if you went to school today…"

I glared at him.

"But if you'd rather go to work now instead of later, you can do what you want." he said quickly. I guess he liked that we'd gotten through a whole conversation and not been any worse than kind of dismissive too much to fight it.

I turned and left without answering him. That's right. I can do what I want.

XxXxX

See, I took care of the racing dogs down at the Slash J stables. Sounds crazy, doesn't it? But that's the honest truth. We trained up dogs to run races there. And it was my job to help with it all. Take care of a pup when one was born. Take them out and run them around the track. I even had a special dog that was mine. If he won, I got the cash.

Soda used to work there too, with the horses, whose stalls were in the same building as the dog pens, but he left for the DX when he quit school. He'd always liked cars better than horses anyhow. And he was crazy about horses, so what does that tell you about his car fanaticism?

I had honestly been a little disappointed when Soda left. Mom and Dad had only died a couple months before, and I'd really enjoyed working with my twin up till then, but afterwards, for me anyhow, it was something more. I felt like Soda and I weren't connecting like we used to, like we were drifting apart, and I didn't like it. We used to be so similar, practically one person. Then suddenly, it seemed like we weren't. When we were working together, everything seemed like it used to. Then he quit and I realized it wasn't just a feeling. It was reality. As much as I love my twin, we're very different people with different interests who walk in different circles in life.

But that didn't change that I missed him.

Either way, at work that day, I was in the middle of brushing my dog, who I'd named Aragorn (I love The Lord of the Rings. It's one of the only books I've ever made it through. I suggested Dallas name his dog Sauron, and, not knowing what I was talking about and thinking it sounded cool, he'd gone along with it) when a tall, slender, graceful blonde came over and leaned on the fence of the pen. I'd put her at about nineteen or twenty. And incredibly sexy.

"Hey." I said, pausing to look her up and down. "Can I help you?"

"Yeah, hi, I'm looking for Motley Curtis?" She smiled at me dazzlingly. Whoa. I didn't know it was physically possible to have teeth that white.

"Well, you've found him." I said nonchalantly, leaning against the side of the pen. I was always in the mood to pick up a chick, no matter what else was going on.

"Oh, good. I've been meaning to talk to you. I'm Cealia, your older brother Darry's girlfriend."

Never mind. She wasn't sexy. She was the ugliest bitch I'd ever seen. My tone became distinctly cold as I said, "And what've you been meanin' to talk to me about?"

She looked startled, then her expression cleared. "Darry warned me you might act this way. Said you were angry. Well, honey, as angry as you are, could you please not take it out on your brother?"

"Don't call me honey." I snapped, pointing the brush at her. "And don't tell me what to do. You don't know anything about me or my family. Not really. I don't care what Darry's told you."

"Fine, _**Motley**_. I love your brother very much, and he loves me, so obviously he felt obligated to go out with me, whether you wanted to talk or not. So suck it up and get over it."

My eyes narrowed as I contemplated the most painful way of killing a person. I've heard stabbing them in the gut will do it anytime… "I don't care how obligated he felt to you, his family comes first. Always. And he'd already agreed to talk to me whenever I felt like it, before he made any sort of commitment to go anywhere with you that night. Besides, you probably got no idea what's been goin' on lately, so don't play high and mighty with me, bitch."

"Oh really? What's been going on lately that's been so hard for you, hmm? Your goldfish die?"

Suddenly, I felt really cold. She didn't seriously just do that. Careful not to let my emotions show through, I said, "You know Dallas and Johnny?"

She nodded. "They're you and your little brother's best friends, right?"

"Well, they both died. Same night."

She looked horrified. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean…"

"My best friend, practically my brother, was murdered right in front of me, and you're gettin' all condescending? Yeah, well, screw you too, bitch. Now get the hell out of here before I set Sauron on you. He can be plenty mean when he wants to be."

"Is this Sauron?" she asked, giving Aragorn the once over.

"No." I snapped, irritated. "This is Aragorn. Sauron's next door." Almost as if on a cue from me, Sauron rammed the side of his pen. He was pissed that I wasn't through brushing Aragorn and started in on him yet. This bitch had succeeded not only in pissing off me, but also the dog. Not that it took much to do that - for either of us - but I was happy to have other reasons to hate this lousy excuse for a human being my brother called a girlfriend.

She looked scared as Sauron rammed the wall again. "I'm just gonna go." And just like that, she was gone.

Thank you, Sauron.

When I walked into the house that night, everybody was there, as per usual. It was nice to see things were getting back to normal.

"Motley Ace!" Darry's angry voice called from the kitchen. "Get in here. I need to talk to you." Well, he must've been really effing pissed.

I walked in and leaned against the counter next to him. "Yeah, what's up?"

He looked up from the food he was cooking angrily. "That's all you can think to say. What's up?"

"Well, what else am I supposed to say? 'Hello, your honor. What do I stand accused of today'?"

Wisely ignoring me, Darry just got right to the point. "Did you seriously cuss out my girlfriend?"

"I didn't cuss out your girlfriend." I clarified. "I called her a bitch once or twice. It ain't the same thing. If she thinks that's cussing out, then I don't think she's got what it takes to be around us."

Darry glared at me. "Why, pray tell, did you call my girlfriend a bitch?"

I shrugged. "'Cause she was bein' one." I said this just as casually as I would've said, 'she's blonde'. Then I stood up straight and walked out of the room. I really wasn't in the mood to have that conversation with my big brother just then.

 ** _PLEASE REVIEW!_**


	6. Do You Love Me?

_Author's note: Hi! This is a sad chapter, I'm sorry. There is a sweet part in the middle somewhere, if that makes you feel any better. Please enjoy and PLEASE REVIEW!_

 **Disclaimer: I don't own the Outsiders**

 _ **Chapter 6: Do You Love Me?**_

MOTLEY'S POV

"Hey, Motley."

"Dal?"

"Well, don't act so surprised. I told you we'd talk, didn't I?"

"Darry said…"

"Since when do you believe everything Darry says?"I was dreaming. That much was painfully obvious by the fact that Dallas was here. That, and we were sitting on top of the eiffel tower in Las Vegas.

"The Vegas eiffel tower? Seriously?" he scoffed. "Not even the one in Paris?"

"I ain't got that much class, Dal."

"Yeah, that's fair."

"Listen, man, if your older brother were goin' out with a psychotic bitch, what would you do?"

"Well, I don't got an older brother, so I don't really know. I'd probably just do what you did, then hunt her down and cut a bitch."

I stared at him. "You've been watchin' me? Stalker."

He smiled. "Hey, I died. I got shot and killed. I got stalkin' rights."

"You did that on purpose. Don't sit over there and act all ripped off."

Dallas stared at me for a second, then said, "Look, it was a mistake, man, okay? We all do things we regret and wish more than anythin' we could take back, especially when we're hurting, alright?"

I was startled by his confession. Dallas never talked like that.

Suddenly, I heard the wail of sirens. I looked around. "Where's that comin' from?"

"I dunno. It's your dream."

The pounding of feet… the sirens were growing louder… the harsh breathing of a gang of teenage boys…

The scene around me started dissolving, but it was obvious that to Dallas, it looked like I was the one who was going places.

"Motley?" he said worriedly, sticking out a hand. It went straight through me

"Dallas?" I could barely even see him anymore. "What's happening?"

"You're goin' to another dream, and it ain't a good one. Don't you recognize the sounds?"

"You'll never get me alive!" I heard a very familiar voice shout.

Gunshots.

"It ain't loaded, don't!"

"Not Dally too!"

"He's just a kid!"

"No…" I whispered, then louder, "No! Don't let me go back there! Dal, do something!"

He reached out and tried to grab my hand, but he still couldn't touch me. "Motley, focus. You can choose not to. Just focus!"

"Dallas…" I couldn't even see him anymore.

"Motley!"

 _ **It was dark. We were running. I don't know if I've ever run so fast in my whole life. Steve's hand was at his side and it was obvious that running like this with broken ribs wasn't doing wonders for him.**_

 _ **We got to the lot at the same time as Dallas. He skidded to a stop under the streetlamp and pulled a gun out from the waistband of his jeans. "You're never gonna get me alive!" he shouted.**_

" _ **Drop it!" a policeman shouted, then they opened fire.**_

" _ **It ain't loaded, don't!"**_

" _ **Not Dally too!"**_

" _ **He's just a kid!"**_

 _ **Those were the sentences I was able to make out. There was too much shouting for me to pick it all out.**_

 _ **I started to run over, but Darry grabbed me.**_

" _ **No!" I screamed. "No! Stop it! Please! PLEASE!"**_

" _ **Motley, quit fighting me!" Darry tightened his grip on me. "All that going over there is going to get you is shot! Stop it!"**_

 _ **They quit firing. Dallas wasn't moving. He was dead. I knew it.**_

 _ **I went limp in Darry's arms and started bawling. He let go of me and I hit the ground on all fours, screaming abuse at the cops, at God, at everyone. Then I stumbled to my feet, turned, and ran.**_

"Motley, wake up!"

I was screaming. I was drowning. And I couldn't make it stop. It was dark. It was cold. There was blood…. So much blood… Dallas's blood…

"MOTLEY!"

My eyes snapped open. Darry was holding my wrists down, keeping me from thrashing around. Soda and Ponyboy were standing at the foot of the bed looking incredibly freaked out.

To my horror, I burst into tears.

"Oh, honey." Darry whispered, pulling me into a tight hug.

I just cried harder. Darry hadn't hugged me like this in a long time. I wouldn't let him. But this time, I needed it so bad that I really didn't care. I just needed my older brother to be there for me. I needed to feel safe and protected. It'd been so long that that emotion was almost alien…

"You're gonna be alright, Motley. You're gonna be okay." He gently stroked the back of my hair. "Nothing can hurt you here. You're safe now. It wasn't real."

"Yeah it w-was. It was r-real. I-I was there."

"Motley…"

"There was b-blood. And sirens and sh-shooting and scream-screaming… And th-then he died and - and I'd never felt s-so hurt and alone in m-my whole l-life."

I heard Ponyboy gasp as they all realized what I was talking about. Traumatizing major life events, anyone?

"Make it go away." I whispered into Darry's shoulder. "Make it better. Make it all go away. Please…"

"Soda, Pony… go back to bed." Darry said, gently rocking me back and forth, his hand making circles on my back.

I heard my door quietly shut a second later.

"Motley, honey, tell me everything."

"You already know everything. You were there too. You remember. I know you do."

"Then help me know how to help you."

"Just… don't leave." It came out of nowhere. But for the first time, I didn't wanna be alone in my bedroom. I _**couldn't**_ be alone in my bedroom.

"Okay." Darry said easily. "Okay." He gently laid me back down and pulled the blankets back over me, then laid down next to me.

We laid there like that, in companionable silence, until I was almost asleep. Then I finally got up the nerve to ask the million dollar question. One that I needed an answer to.

"Darry, you awake?"

"Yeah, Motley, what is it?"

"Do you…"

"Do I what, honey?"

"Do you love me?"

He was silent for a minute, and when he answered, there was almost indescribable pain in his voice. "You seriously have to ask that?"

"It can just be kinda hard to tell sometimes, y'know?" I whispered sleepily.

I was turned away from him, so I couldn't see him, but he laid a hand on my back, and when he answered, he sounded close to tears. "Of course I love you, baby. I love you more than just about anything. I can't believe you don't know that. I should've shown you… been better… but yes. I do love you. So much."

I turned to face him, searching his face for any trace of a lie, but as far as I knew, he was being sincere. He pulled me into his chest, his arms around me. I snuggled in close.

"Okay." I whispered as I fell asleep. "Just checkin'."

XxXxX

When I woke up the next morning, I guess Darry'd had to go make breakfast or something, 'cause he wasn't there anymore. I suddenly felt very vulnerable and alone.

I sat up and was about to get out of bed when I heard Darry and Soda talking in Soda and Ponyboy's bedroom next door and decided to stay where I was. Just out of curiosity.

"You shoulda heard him last night, Soda." Darry was saying. "He actually had to ask me if I love him. I feel lower than dirt."

"That's 'cause you are."

"Soda!"

"Seriously. You know what he said to me yesterday? He said that he honestly thinks you love Cealia more than him. Darry, as much as you love her, to the rest of us, she's just some random chick. She's some random chick none of us know, and she should never come before any of your family."

I didn't want to listen to this anymore. I wanted to go back to sleep. So I did maybe the stupidest thing I've ever done, which is saying something.

I went into the bathroom and dug through the medicine cabinet until I found what I wanted.

Going back into the bedroom, I laid down on the bed, looking at the bottle. It said that for somebody my age and weight, the dose was one tablet. But that didn't seem like enough. Not enough to make me go back to sleep until that terrible conversation was over, like I wanted.

I took three instead.

The stuff hit me like a ton of bricks. As I slowly drifted off to sleep, the bottle slipping out of my hand and onto the floor, I caught the tail end of Darry and Soda's conversation. I'm not entirely sure what I heard. It's all so fuzzy now.

"Darry, you gotta come up with a way to show him you love him more than her, otherwise, he's never gonna believe you."

 ** _PLEASE_ _REVIEW!_**


	7. PleaseHelp me

_Author's note: Hey! Welcome back to our little story. I'm sorry I left you hanging so thoroughly last time, I know when I'm reading a story, that's the last thing I wanna deal with, but it's kinda fun for those of us who are doing it. I'm sure y'all know what I mean 'cause I bet half of you, if not more, have done it yourselves. Either way, please enjoy._

 **Disclaimer: Nothing is mine. Nothing. Except my model of a blue '65 shelby cobra, but that's beside the point.**

 **PLEASE REVIEW!**

 _ **Chapter**_ **7:** ** _Please...Help me..._**

MOTLEY'S POV

I wasn't inside my body anymore. What the hell?

I looked around. I was standing in the middle of the floor in my bedroom. I was staring at myself, asleep on the bed. But I didn't look asleep. I honestly looked dead.

I went a little closer. My chest was barely rising and falling and my forehead was shiny with sweat.

Scratch that. I wasn't dead. But I was pretty sure I was dying.

I didn't know exactly what was happening to me, but I had a pretty good idea. I'd heard of these kinds of things before. I'm pretty sure it's called an out of body experience. Supposedly it happens when a person's just died or is almost dead. I dunno though. Ponyboy knows more about this kind of stuff.

What was really important was that somebody find me before I wound up having to leave for another place.

But would they even be able to tell what happened? Did _**I**_ even know what happened?

I looked around the room for some clue. Soda'd gotten so sick we had to take him to the hospital once. Fever of 106. He'd looked a lot like I did just then. Maybe… We were twins after all…

Then I saw the bottle of sleeping pills and it hit me. Oh shit. It hadn't seemed like a big deal at the time, but I'd taken _**three times**_ what I was supposed to. I hadn't thought it would do this, but now I looked back on it, it made sense. I was ODing.

Just shit.

The door opened and Ponyboy slipped in.

"Thank you!" I said loudly. "I was starting to wonder if anybody cared whether I was still alive or not."

He couldn't hear me. Obviously he couldn't. Who'd ever heard of the bystanders hearing the out of body experience person?

Is that even a thing?

Ponyboy's eyes widened as he took in my face, shining with sweat, and the fact I was struggling for breath. His gaze wandered to the small orange bottle next to my hand, which was gently curving down to the floor. He dropped to his knees beside it, looked at the label, looked at me. "Oh, Motley, you didn't." he whispered.

Then he started shouting for Soda, Darry, Two-Bit, Steve, _**anyone**_. He didn't care who was in earshot. It could be _**Satan**_ and it wouldn't matter to him. He just needed someone to come because his older brother was dying and he knew it.

A second later, Darry and Soda came running in.

"What is it Pony?" Darry said urgently.

Ponyboy's eyes were wide and terrified as he lifted up the orange pill bottle. "Motley…"

Darry and Soda immediately hurried over to my still form. "Shit." Darry swore, taking my face in his hands. "Motley. Motley, honey, can you hear me?"

I crashed back into my body. I felt slow, peaceful. I couldn't make my eyes open. There was something serious going on. What was it? "Yeah." I barely breathed the word.

"Motley, how many did you take? I need you to think hard for me and tell me how many you took."

"Three." I said, barely audible, my suddenly slow brain finally remembering what was going on.

"Why? Kiddo, why?"

And then I was out of my body again right as I said, "I didn't know it was gonna do this." I sounded like a whiny little kid. I didn't care. I needed him to understand why I'd done it.

The me on the bed just lay there, limp as a rag doll.

"No." Darry said, grabbing my shoulders and giving me a slight shake. "No no no no no. Don't you dare do this. Open your eyes and look at me, Motley. Open your eyes."

Nothing.

"Shit." he said again. He gently picked me up off the bed and cradled me in his arms. "He needs a hospital."

Ponyboy nodded and grabbed my jacket off the floor, helping Darry put it on me. Soda just sat there and stared at the orange pill bottle, which Ponyboy had dropped on the floor.

"Sodapop." Darry said urgently, now already halfway out the door. "Let's go. Bring the bottle so the doctors'll know what he took."

Soda seemed to jerk out of his daze, grabbed the pill bottle and hurried out.

I just followed after them. There wasn't anything else for me to do.

XxXxX

I just lounged around the hospital waiting room with my brothers, unsure of what to do, of what was going on. I'd seen them wheel me away and not much else. I was frustrated. That was _**my**_ body in there. _**My**_ life. I had a right to know if I was dying or not.

Though I wasn't sure if I wanted to know.

"What was he thinking?" Soda kept whispering over and over. "Why would he do that?"

Ponyboy sat there, his hands trembling, crying silently.

Darry was white and pale as he leaned back against the wall, rubbing Soda's back. "It's gonna be alright, Soda. They'll fix him right up and everythin's gonna be fine."

"But why would he do it?" Soda turned his dark, tortured eyes to our oldest brother. "He's never talked about suicide before. Never."

I went tight and cold. Is that what they thought I'd done? But of course they did. It made sense. If we'd switched roles, if I found Ponyboy instead of the other way around, I would think the exact same thing.

"But I didn't." I muttered. "That's not me."

"Actually," Darry said slowly, "he did talk about it once before."

Ponyboy looked up. There was a certain hardness to his eyes, a fire, that I'd never seen there before. "When?"

"Yesterday, actually. He told me that he'd been down at the 11th street bridge and he'd thought seriously about jumping off. But he told me he'd decided against it and I didn't need to be worried. Of course, that doesn't mean I wasn't still worried, but I didn't expect anythin' like this. Not so soon. And not with the rest of us in the house." He paused, then whispered, "He's not even safe when all the rest of us are home."

"Darry, why didn't ya tell me he said that?" Soda said, outraged. "He's my twin. I got a right to know if he's thinkin' about offin' himself."

"Sodapop-"

"No! You can't just try and fix everythin' all by yourself all the time! You can't! I coulda helped you! I know Motley better than anyone! And Pony coulda helped too! He knows exactly what Motley's goin' through. If you'd just let us in and acknowledge you can't do everythin' on your own all the time, none of this woulda happened! You accuse Motley of doin' it, and I won't pretend he ain't guilty of it, but you are to, you stupid effin' hypocrite!"

Darry just stared at Soda like he'd never seen anything like him before.

Soda stood up. "I'm gonna go get somethin' from the vending machines. Coffee or candy or somethin'... I dunno what those things actually sell. I don't care. I need caffeine, I need sugar."

He was totally rambling. He tends to do that when he's upset.

He paused, realizing what he was doing. Then he snapped, "Don't bother following me." and took off down the hall.

Whoa. That was… intense. I couldn't remember the last time I'd seen something like that. I mean, Soda got mad at Darry occasionally, sure, but yelling at him like that?

Oh, whatever. If me and Soda's situations were reversed, I'da cussed the living daylights outta him. He should feel lucky.

Darry looked over at Ponyboy with pained eyes. "I suppose you're mad at me too?"

Ponyboy shook his head. "I don't know. I just don't know anymore." The poor kid looked so small and lost.

Suddenly, pain lanced through my stomach and I gasped and doubled over. "Shit." I hissed. It was getting worse by the second. I fell to my knees, then to my side, my arms wrapped around my stomach. I moaned. I'd never felt like this before. What the hell…?

There was a bright white flash, the worst pain yet, and I lay there on the floor, invisible, with no one to help me, and screamed.

It felt like somebody was stabbing me in the gut and was slowly twisting the knife around. I screamed even louder.

Darry and Ponyboy continued to sit there, oblivious.

I needed someone to see me, make this stop… it hurt so bad, I just wanted to die...

I looked up at Darry from the floor, tears of agony streaming down my face. "Darry… please… help me…"

 _If you've got problems with out of body experiences, 'cause apparently those piss some people off, go take a flying leap._

 **PLEASE REVIEW!**


	8. I Felt Like He'd Slapped Me

_Author's note: how's it goin, everybody? Good? Bad? In between?_

 _I am once again gonna beg all y'all not to get mad at me for what I'm about to do involving our one and only Darry. I love him to death. Don't get me wrong. But you people can't deny he can be a little oblivious to other people's feelings occasionally, and he's not the best at reading people. He's always trying to do the right thing, it just comes out wrong sometimes. He's just so easy to do this kind of thing to._

 _Either way, I love Darry so much. This story is in no way an excuse to hate on Darry, even though I'm sure it seems like it sometimes._

 **Disclaimer: None of this is mine. Except Motley. He's mine. And I love that I can claim him.**

 _ **Chapter 8: I Felt Like He'd Slapped Me**_

MOTLEY'S POV

It was dark. I felt like I was under water or something. I heard voices talking. I wasn't sure whose they were, but they were voices. I didn't want to talk to anyone yet. I wasn't sure why. I just didn't. Something bad had happened…

What was it?

The sound of a door slamming and the voices stopped. Maybe I'd be willing to wake up now…?

A phone rang.

"Hello?" It was Darry's voice. "Hey, Cealia."

Ugh. _**That**_ bitch.

"I dunno. Yeah, the doctor said he'll be okay. I guess that's a fair point. Okay, I'll come pick you up in five minutes." The clatter of a phone being put down.

Soda's voice now. "What d'you mean, you'll pick her up in five minutes? What about Motley?"

"Look, Soda, he's obviously gonna be fine, you'll be here when he wakes up, and I've been neglecting Cealia, and she feels left out. So we're gonna go to dinner. Then I'll be right back. I mean, really, what can happen in an hour?"

"A lot. I bet it took Motley all of three seconds to swallow those pills in the first place."

"Don't you throw that in my face. You're the one who was suggesting I go stretch my legs, get something to eat."

"This is _**not**_ what I meant."

"Soda, I love Motley. You know how much he means to me. But Cealia means a lot to me too. I've handled Motley, made sure he's okay. Now it's her turn."

"Whatever."

"Sodapop, this isn't open for discussion. I'll just hang out with her for a little bit, then come back. And after I'm back, you can go out and do something yourself. It's no good to sit here in this hospital room forever."

"I'll stay right here, thanks. If it's all the same to you." I don't know if I've ever heard that kind of ice in his voice. That was usually my thing.

"Soda, I can't just forget about everybody else. I'm just… I'm tryin' to give everyone equal attention. Wasn't the problem with Motley that I wasn't givin' him the same amount of attention as Cealia? I don't want the scales tipping the other way either. I don't want a repeat of… this. I don't think I could handle it. So I'm just making sure it's not gonna happen again."

Footsteps crossed the room. I opened my eyes. I had to see what was going on.

Darry was on his way out the door. Soda was standing next to my bed, facing away from me, towards the door. Even though I couldn't see his face, I could tell he was angry. Very angry.

"Like I said, I've been neglecting her, and now I'm gonna fix it."

"No you haven't. You've been neglecting your brothers."

Darry cast him one last shocked look before just leaving.

I felt tears well up in my eyes as I finally realized what was going on through my foggy brain. Darry was leaving me here in the hospital to be with his girlfriend before I'd even woke up. This was so not like him, and yet…

Soda turned around. I looked up at him with wide, pained eyes and let a tear slide down my cheek.

"Motley." Soda said quietly, shocked. "How long've you been awake?"

I ignored the question and asked the most important ones in the world to me just then. "Are you gonna leave me too? Does anyone even love me?"

I'd never seen such a broken look on my twin's face before. He knelt down next to me so we were on eye level and grabbed my cold hand tightly in his warm one. "I love you so much. And no, I'm not gonna leave you. Ever."

XxXxX

We just sat there like that for hours. I held his hand tightly, taking comfort in the fact there was somebody who loved me and who would never leave me. I cried and cried and cried, but I didn't have it in me to care. It was just too much. It was all too much.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, I said, "Soda?"

"Yeah?"

"Where's Ponyboy?"

"Two-Bit and Steve took him home. He didn't really wanna go, but he was tired and Darry said he should."

Tired? Hadn't they taken me to the hospital in the morning? "Soda, what time is it? I mean, how long was I out?"

"Pony found you in your room around noon. You woke up a couple hours ago around midnight."

"Whoa. That's… longer than I thought. Didn't feel that long. I guess I can see why he's tired."

"Motley…" Soda said hesitantly, and I could tell he was about to go into a subject that he wasn't exactly sure what to do with. "Why'd ya do it? Take the pills? You got so much to live for."

"That wasn't it at all, Soda." I said, desperately needing him to understand. "I wasn't tryin' to off myself, I swear, I was just… I was tired and I wasn't thinkin' straight, and I heard you and Darry talkin' in the other room, so I was upset and… I looked at the dose and it said one, but it didn't seem like enough. So I took more. It was stupid, I know it was, but… I wasn't tryin' to kill myself."

Soda just looked at me.

"Soda, you gotta believe me!" There was an urgency in my voice as I gripped his hand tighter. "I'd never do nothin' like that. I'd never try and leave on purpose. And even if I did, I'd tell you first."

He looked at me for a second longer, then nodded. "Okay. If that's the honest truth, okay."

We just sat there, holding hands and taking comfort in each other's presence, until I fell back asleep.

XxXxX

When I woke up next, Soda was still holding my hand, but there was something about it that was rigid and just felt _**angry**_. I smiled up at him, then looked to my other side and saw Darry. The smile disappeared and was replaced by the look I generally reserved for people I wasn't particularly happy with, if you know what I mean.

"Motley, Soda told me it wasn't on purpose, so I ain't gonna ask you about that." Darry said gently. "I just need to know one thing: are you okay?"

I gave a derisive laugh. "Like you give a damn."

"Motley-"

"No. Don't you 'Motley' me. I don't wanna hear any more of your bullshit. Why don't ya go blow your girlfriend? We all know that's where you'd rather be."

Darry looked shocked and hurt. "Where'd you get that idea?"

"What, didn't ya notice I was awake last night when you left? I heard you. 'He's obviously gonna be fine, you'll be here when he wakes up'. You didn't even care enough to stick around and be sure I hadn't done it on purpose. You're a sorry sad excuse for a brother who deserves to go burn in hell until the day you die. Now get out of here."

Darry looked up at Soda and saw that he was pretty thoroughly in agreement with me. "Fine." he snapped. "I won't bother comin' back."

"You better not." I was _**mad**_. I was pissed as _**hell**_.

He stood up. "At least I'm not as bad as Dallas." He intended for the statement to hurt me. I saw the look in his eyes.

And it did. I felt like he'd slapped me.

"Darry!" Soda said indignantly. "What the hell?"

Darry crossed the room and opened the door. He paused to look back at me on his way out, and I could already see the beginnings of remorse on his face. "Motley, listen…"

I looked him straight in the eye. "Dallas was more of a brother to me than you've ever been."

I saw a muscle in his jaw jump, then he left, slamming the door behind him hard.

I looked over at Soda and he stared back at me like he couldn't believe what he was seeing.

"What? He deserved it."

Soda started laughing. "Yeah. He did, didn't he?"

The door opened and for a moment I thought Darry had come back. I was ready to cuss the living daylights out of him, and had actually opened my mouth to do so, when Ponyboy slid into the room. My swear words turned into a shouted greeting. "Pony! C'mere, kiddo!"

He came and sat on the end of my bed. "Hey, man, how ya feelin'?"

"Great, actually." I smiled. "Though, to be fair, I think I'm on a lot of different kinds of dope. Who knew they drugged you so much in this place?"

"Like you need any help with that." He was looking down at his hands and he sounded like he was going to cry.

I looked questioningly over at Soda. 'I ain't had time to talk to him yet' he mouthed. Oh. Well, that explained that.

"I didn't do it on purpose, Pone." I said gently. He looked back up at me, hope beginning to shine in his bright green eyes. "I wouldn't do that. That just ain't me, kiddo, and you know it. I don't run from a fight. I never have. And I sure as hell ain't gonna start now."

Ponyboy smiled. "I was so scared when I found you there, y'know that?"

"I know. And I'm so damn sorry. Truce?" I stuck out my pinky.

He laughed a little bit and we locked pinkies. "Truce."

XxXxX

They didn't keep me in there very long. Let me out about an hour after that, once they were sure the sleeping pills hadn't permanently screwed up my brain or something.

Darry wasn't there when we got home. There was a note on the table saying that he was out with Cealia. Again.

Well, good riddance.

Two-Bit and Steve, however, were there, and I think they'd eaten all the food in the house. At least, by the looks of the kitchen.

"Guys," I said good naturedly, sitting down next to Two-Bit on the couch, "warn us next time you're hungry. We'll go shoppin'."

"Glad to see you ain't dead." Steve said jokingly. We were honestly pretty good friends. I mean, Soda was his best friend, but, personality wise, I was more like Steve than Soda was, so we got along okay. But I'm sure it's why we weren't best friends. We'd have killed each other by now. That, or gone and jumped off the 11th street bridge together.

"Let's play poker." Two-Bit said.

"Oh, sure, _**now**_ you wanna play."

"I don't wanna play when it's just you, Stevie. You cheat. At least this way these guys'll be here to catch ya out."

I raised an eyebrow. "Who says we're gonna catch him out? We'll be to busy cheatin' ourselves."

He laughed. "I think that's the first time any of us has actually out-and-out admitted to it."

Soda went into the kitchen. "Who wants lunch?"

"Just make sure ya don't put nothin' in it that wouldn't normally be there." I muttered. "I really ain't in the mood for that." I leaned my head back. "Don't be too loud. I'm gonna take a nap." Then I closed my eyes and fell asleep so fast you'd think I'd popped three sleeping pills again.

 ** _Again, not hating on Darry. I love him._**


	9. Good Enough For You

_Author's note: Sup guys?_

 _So basically, I intended to post this on Saturday, but fanfiction was having issues and WOULDN'T LISTEN TO ME! I knew anything computer related hates me, but jeez, I didn't know it'd gotten this bad._

 _Either way, belated happy Rob Lowe's birthday and please enjoy the story_

 **Disclaimer: Absolutely nothing is mine, except Motley, who I've based off someone I know very well.**

 _ **Chapter 9: Good Enough For You**_

MOTLEY'S POV

"What'd ya go and do a stupid thing like that for?"

"Nice to see you again too, Dal."

This time we weren't anywhere special. Just the lot, where Dal and I had spent a lot of our time. Pony and Johnny came there a lot too, but they never noticed us. We didn't exactly sit in the most conventional spot.

Namely, at the very top of the one tree, where the branches dipped and bent under our weight. We'd been coming up there since we'd met, and even though the older we got, the more dangerous it got, we didn't much care. A little something like growing to the size of an adult wasn't gonna stop us from sitting at the very top of a tree.

"Seriously, though, Motley. Three pills? I always assumed you'd come up with somethin' at least a little more creative if ya actually went through with it."

"What is it with everyone and thinkin' I'm tryin' to off myself? I ain't suicidal, for the umpteenth damn time."

"Yeah, I know." Dallas said with a crooked grin. "I was just messin' with ya. If I thought you were actually tryin' to kill yourself, I woulda beat you up, dream world or no, not say I thought you'd come up with somethin' more creative. How heartless do ya think I am?"

"Hardy har har." I muttered.

"Y'know, I was touched, even if it ain't true."

"Huh?"

"By what you said to Darry. That I'm more of a brother to you than he's ever been. It ain't true, but it was nice to hear all the same."

"It is true, Dal." I said resolutely. "No question."

"Oh really?"

"Would you've left that hospital room to go be with your girl before I even woke up?"

"No, but then, I've never been with anyone here I was in love with."

"You wouldn't even if ya were. I know you. Loyalty always comes first."

"I guess that's true. I wouldn't leave you. But other than that, y'know, Darry's better than me."

"Not true. You helped me. You saved me. Y'know, after Mom and Dad. You told me that I don't need to feel left out just 'cause I'm a little different from my brothers. That I'm amazing, even if I don't feel like I am. That I don't need to be good enough for anyone but myself, that it doesn't matter what Darry and Soda and Ponyboy think of how I live my life as long as I'm okay with it. You told me that even if I'm not good enough for them, I'm good enough for you."

Dallas was quiet for a minute.

"What, did ya not mean any of that?"

"No, I meant every damn word of it. I'm just surprised it had that much of an impact on you. I didn't think anythin' I did had much of an impact on anyone."

"Believe me, Dal, I think you had the most impact of all."

We sat there in companionable silence for a while, just enjoying being back at our old haunt. Remembering all the summer days spent up there drinking smuggled whiskey, smoking, throwing rocks and cigarette butts at passersby. It was fun. I sure missed that.

"I should probably let ya go now." Dallas said regretfully.

"Why?" I didn't want him to go. I didn't want to wake up and go back to reality. I liked it better here, where all the things I'd lost could go on being mine.

"Because Darry's tryin' to wake you up and you're not, and it's startin' to freak him out." Dallas paused to listen. "In fact, right now he's suggesting maybe takin' ya back to the hospital."

"Yeah, no way in hell I'm goin' back there. Get me outta here."

"Alright, buddy. See ya soon."

The scene dissolved, but my eyes were still closed. Waking up was more challenging than I thought. I felt Darry's hands on my shoulders, shaking me.

"Motley Ace Curtis, wake up right now." He sounded desperate. "This ain't funny anymore. What's the matter with you?"

"Maybe the sleeping pills ain't worn off all the way yet, Darry." I heard Two-Bit suggest. "There was a lot in his system."

"It should be gone by now." Darry said. "It's been long enough, even for that much." His grip on my shoulders had tightened to the point that it hurt, hard enough to leave bruises. He shook me so hard I felt my head snap back.

"Leave him alone, Darry." Soda said, his voice suddenly low and really angry.

Darry's hands left my shoulders. A second later, I felt Soda gently grip my wrist in a loose but firm hold. "Motley," he said calmly. "Wake up, huh, man?"

And just like that, I could. I stirred slightly, then my eyes opened slowly. I sat up straighter and looked over at Soda. "Hey. Is there any food left? I'm starvin'."

Then I paused and brought my hand up to my shoulder. When I was asleep, it didn't matter too much, but now that I was awake, it hurt. "Ow." I muttered, rubbing it. "It feels like somebody put my shoulders under a hammer. Is there a particular reason for that, or just for kicks?"

Soda's eyes flashed with anger as he looked up at Darry. "I dunno. Why don't ya ask him?"

Darry looked down at me. "You weren't wakin' up, kiddo. What was the deal with that?"

"How'm I supposed to know?" I asked with a shrug. "Maybe it's 'cause the hospital doped me up on so much shit? Who gives a damn, really? I'm hungry."

Darry looked kind of hurt, and I liked it. The son of a bitch deserved to get hurt. He'd hurt me, after all. And Ponyboy. Now it was his turn.

Soda got up and pulled me to my feet. "If you're hungry, c'mon. I got some left over dinner for you."

"Shit, man, was I really asleep that long?" It hadn't felt that long. It felt like Dal and I had talked for maybe twenty minutes, not hours. Definitely not enough time for going from just before lunch to after dinner.

"Yeah. You just passed out. You sure you're feelin' better?"

"Yes, I'm sure. Let's not baby me, please?"

He laughed. "Okay, okay."

Soda's dinner had obviously been rather creative. He set a plate of purple mashed potatoes and blue chicken down in front of me. "You want any milk?"

"Yeah, alright." I said hesitantly. "As long as you didn't do anythin' to it you shouldn't've."

"Don't worry, I didn't put nothin' unnatural in it, if that's what you're worried about." A second later, a glass of orange milk was in front of me too. The blessings of food coloring. Then he sat down next to me, thoughtfully munching a piece of chocolate cake I was sure Darry didn't know he had. "Are your shoulders okay? Darry was holdin' em kinda hard."

I shrugged. "They're fine. It don't matter." I was lying. They hurt. If you've ever been held by somebody that tightly, you know what I'm talking about.

Soda could tell I was lying. "Take your shirt off, let's take a look."

Sad to stop eating, I set down my fork and took my shirt off, wincing as I lifted my arms above my head.

Soda didn't miss that. He immediately stood up and bent over, trying to get a better look. I heard his sharp intake of breath.

"What? What's wrong?" I asked, confused. It couldn't be more than just a little red up there.

Soda stuck out a finger and gently brushed one of the spots that hurt the worst. I winced and jumped. Did _**not**_ expect that.

"Come into the bathroom with me." Soda said. "That way you can take a look yourself." He picked up my shirt and grabbed my arm, dragging me through the living room, and down the hall.

"Never could keep that boy dressed." I heard Two-Bit mutter.

Soda pulled me into the bathroom. "Take a look."

I looked into the mirror and gasped myself. What the hell…?

You could see exactly where Darry's fingers had been. All ten of them. How, you ask? Well, easy, really. On each of my shoulders there were five black and blue bruises in the shapes of fingers.

"Holy shit." I muttered. I knew he grabbed me hard, maybe enough to make it red, but... "How the hell do ya even grab a person that hard?"

Soda looked angry. "I dunno." He reached out and gently touch them again. "I wish I could fix it. You don't deserve to wander around like this."

"It's fine, Soda." I muttered. "It ain't like no one can see em." But it wasn't alright. It wasn't alright at all. Soda didn't feel like it was either.

The door suddenly opened and Darry poked his head in. "What're you guys doin'?" Then he saw the bruises on my shoulders and opened the door a little wider. "Holy shit, Motley, did I…?" He reached out a hand.

I shoved it away. "Get away from me." I snapped, yanking my shirt back on and pushing my way past him.

I'd only just barely made my way back to the living room when the shouting started. Soda yelling at Darry, Darry yelling at Soda. I stood there for a moment, stunned, then grabbed my jacket off the couch.

"I'm gonna go out for a bit." I said to Two-Bit and Steve and Ponyboy. "I don't wanna listen to em fight. I'll be back later." And I took off out the door.

 ** _Before ya'll start yelling at me, I would like to bring one sentence from The Outsiders that to your attention that seems to be overlooked quite frequently. "Darry's always rough with me without meaning to be."_**

 ** _And again, I'm not Darry hating. I love Darry. He's just been left wide open for stuff like this._**

 ** _PLEASE REVIEW! YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW HAPPY IT MAKES ME!_**


	10. What Happened to You Two?

_Author's note: Hey all y'all! For your entertainment, for the first time ever, I am going to give you something from somebody else's pov. I know, right? We just entered the twilight zone._

 **Disclaimer: The story line is mine, but the characters aren't. Except Motley. He's mine, and I'm proud of him.**

 _ **Chapter 10: What Happened to You Two?**_

DARRY'S POV

When Soda and I finally came out of the bathroom, Motley was nowhere to be seen. Soda shoved past me to the kitchen, then came back out, looking scared.

"Where is he? Guys, where is he?"

"He left." Two-Bit said simply.

"What d'you mean he left? Where'd he go?"

"He said he didn't wanna listen to y'all fight and he'd be back later."

Soda sank down to sit right where he was. He didn't seem to care it was the kitchen doorway.

"Soda-" I started, wanting to comfort him, help him understand everything would be okay.

"Don't." he said sharply. "Not right now. I don't want anythin' from you." He stood up slowly. "I'm gonna go find him." And just like that, he was gone too.

Ponyboy just stared down at his cards. Full house. Good for you, kid.

"Y'know, if you ain't careful, they're all gonna wind up hatin' you before long." Steve said without looking up either, his voice measured and calm.

"You can quit talkin' 'bout me like I ain't here." Ponyboy stated cooly.

"You're right kid, sorry. Darry, if you ain't careful, the kid here's gonna start hatin' you before long just like his two big brothers do."

Two-Bit looked up at him in shock. "Steve."

"What? Neither of em is all that happy with Darry right now."

"Well, yeah, but they don't hate him, though."

"You're right. They do love him. That's why they're so mad."

I couldn't stand this anymore. "Guys, can we talk about somethin' else?"

Steve shrugged. "Just tellin' ya the honest truth. Motley cares and that's why he's hurtin', and Soda cares about Motley and don't like seein' him hurt, and that's why he's pissed at ya too. I'm assumin' you didn't do that on purpose, so I'm givin' you a warning. Ya might get Ponyboy to be pissed as hell at ya too, and it'll be a complete accident."

Just then, the phone rang. I went over to pick it up, hoping it would be one of my twin little brothers. "Hello?"

"Hey, baby." It was Cealia.

"Oh, hey."

"You sound disappointed."

"I'm not, I was just hopin' to hear from Soda or Motley."

"Oh, how is your brother doing?"

"Better now."

"I can't believe he tried to kill himself."

'He says he didn't do it for that reason."

"And you believe him?"

"He's my brother."

"Since when does that mean anything when it comes to lies?"

"It does with my brothers, alright?"

"When did you get so testy?"

"Sorry, it isn't you. It's everythin' else."

"Which is why you need a distraction, which is exactly why I called. Let's go dancing tonight."

"Yeah, that sounds like fun. When would you like me to pick you up?"

"How about seven?"

"Alright. See ya then. Love you, babe."

"Love you."

I turned around to find Ponyboy glaring at me accusingly.

"What?"

"Goin' out again?"

"So what?"

He turned back to his cards. "No reason. Just thought you'd have a little more consideration for Soda and Motley's feelings at this point, that's all."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You left the hospital before Motley even woke up to go be with this chick, then you left again to go be with her before he got out, and now you're going out tonight. You've already been out with the broad once today, ain't that enough?"

"Ponyboy Michael, you just watch what you say. I can do what I want. I'm an adult."

"That doesn't change how it affects other people. Motley's gonna feel like you're abandoning him again."

A plan started to formulate in my head. I remembered Soda's words from that horrible morning when we found Motley in his room. ' _Darry, you gotta come up with a way to_ _ **show**_ _him you love him more than her, otherwise, he's never gonna believe you._ '

"Then I'll just have to prove to him I'm not."

MOTLEY'S POV

I was at the small grocery store not too far from our house trying to decide which candy bar I wanted to take. Since I wasn't planning on paying for it, it was a harder decision than usual. I didn't have the concept of money holding me back. Butterfinger maybe? They'd always been my favorite.

"Hey." Soda's voice came from behind me. "Hard decision?"

"You could say that."

"Are you mad at me?"

"What?" I said, shocked, turning to face him. "No. How could I ever be mad at you?"

"Two-Bit said you left 'cause you didn't wanna listen to us fight."

"Well, yeah, but that doesn't mean I'm mad at you. You were fighting for me and I appreciate it. I really do. It's Darry I'm pissed at. As always."

"You used to be so close. What happened to you two?"

"He quit bein' my brother and started tryin' to be my father."

"Motley, c'mon."

"Y'know, it really sucked for us all to lose our parents, but that ain't all I lost. I lost my brother too. And it hurt like hell. I guess that's why I'm always mad at him and he's always mad at me."

"Maybe if you made an effort…"

"I did, Sodapop. Don't you start with me. I ain't your pet project, I'm a person."

"I didn't mean it like that, man." He looked sad. I hated it when Soda looked sad.

"I know. I just… I'm just frustrated, that's all. Don't sweat it."

"Come on home with me, Motley. We'll watch TV or somethin'."

"Okay." I said easily, taking a Butterfinger and slipping it in my pocket.

XxXxX

When Soda and I walked into the house, Two-Bit and Steve were gone. Heaven knows or cares where to. Ponyboy and Darry were nowhere to be seen.

"Hello?" Soda called tentatively. "Anybody home?"

"Back here!" "My room!" Ponyboy and Darry gave their respective answers.

"Well, we're here, so don't send out no search parties." We sat down on the couch next to each other, turning on the TV. The evening news. Damn it.

"It was a rough day in Vietnam…"

"Change it, Soda."

He changed the channel and suddenly the coyote was trying to blow up the roadrunner. Seemed like whether it was a kid's show or real life, someone was always trying to blow up somebody else.

"Hey guys." Darry said, coming out. He was wearing his shoes and stuffing his keys in his pocket.

"Goin' out with that bitch again?" I asked nonchalantly.

Darry looked over at me with pained eyes. "Soda, can you give us a minute?"

Soda raised an eyebrow. "Sure. But if anythin' else on him winds up black and blue, _**you'll**_ be black and blue. You got me?" And then he was gone.

"He takes things too serious sometimes." I muttered as Darry came and sat down next to me.

"I really am sorry about that, Motley. It isn't like it was intentional or anythin'."

"It don't matter Darry. Accidents happen."

"Listen, kiddo, I _**am**_ going out with Cealia again tonight, but I swear I'll call around nine, okay?"

I looked at him weird. "Why?"

"Just 'cause, alright? We'll talk about whatever. Just you and me."

Oh. Alright, I understood. Darry was trying to fix the fact that I was pissed at him, and the way he could see to do that was take time out of his evening with Cealia for me. I did everything to make sure it didn't show on my face, but inside I glowed with pleasure.

Darry got up and patted my shoulder, grabbed his jacket and headed for the door. "Talk to you later."

"Promise?"

He looked back at me, already halfway out of the house. "Yeah."

"Why?" I asked again.

"'Cause I love you."

He really needed to stop giving that as a reason. People said those words too often for them to be real.

"You swear?" I really wasn't sure what I was asking about anymore, if he loved me or if he'd call.

"Of course. If I didn't love you, I wouldn't call."

And then he was gone.

Soda came back in. "See? Progress."

"You were listening?" I laughed. "Y'know, when someone says they wanna have a conversation in private, it usually means they ain't in the mood to get heard."

"So?"

"You're impossible."

We sat and watched TV for another hour or so, till about eight-thirty, then Ponyboy came in. "Soda?"

"Yeah?" Soda answered distractedly.

"Um… Darry told me to tell you to go to bed around now… somethin' about you not gettin' enough sleep..."

"Oh." Soda said, getting it. "Sure. I'll be right there." He stood up. "You're fine here without me, right, Motley?"

'What am I, two?" I asked with a smile.

"Alright, alright, I get it. See ya tomorrow."

"Yeah, see ya."

XxXxX

I looked at the clock. Nine. I tensed in expectation.

Nine-fifteen…

Nine thirty…

Nine-forty-five…


	11. I Waited For You

_Author's note: A little more from Darry's pov later in the chapter. Enjoy._

 **Disclaimer: I don't own The Outsiders, but Motley's mine.**

 ** _Chapter 11: I Waited For You_**

MOTLEY'S POV

Eleven-forty-five.

Soda came back into the room. He took me in, staring at the phone like it'd just told me my puppy was dead, and he knew what was going on. "He still hasn't called?"

I shook my head wordlessly. If I said anything I'd start crying, and I didn't wanna do that anymore. I'd already broken that promise to myself enough times. I wasn't in the mood to do it again.

"Motley, he probably just lost track of time…"

"For-" I checked my watch "-two hours and forty-seven minutes?"

"I can't believe him. I really can't." Soda started muttering and cussing under his breath. It sounded like he said 'what the duck is the matter with him? I mean, seriously, what the duck?' but something tells me I was wrong. Soda doesn't usually talk about ducks. Though, to be fair, you never know with him.

"It's fine, Soda." I said, looking away. "At least now I know."

His head snapped up. "Know what?"

My voice broke as I repeated Darry's words from earlier. "'If I didn't love you, I wouldn't call.'"

It was so quiet, I'd be willing to swear Soda'd stopped breathing. Then, "Motley, that ain't what he meant. It ain't. He loves you. He really does. I swear."

"Like shit." I sounded funny. I really wasn't sure if I was laughing or sobbing at this point. They sound and feel so similar.

"Motley…"

"Look, I wanna… I wanna be alone. Can you… Can you just…"

"Yeah, buddy, I get it. See ya in the morning, 'kay? We can kick Darry's ass together." He patted my shoulder and then he was gone.

I stared at the phone like the meaning of life was written across it. Isn't it interesting that such a little object could have so much sway over how I felt just then? Over how I would probably view me and Darry's relationship for the rest of my life? It seemed funny to me, for some reason.

Midnight.

That was it. I was done. He wasn't gonna call. I didn't mean anything to him. Why did I even bother anymore? He'd said if he didn't love me, he wouldn't call, and he hadn't called. Question answered. Without an effing doubt. Maybe I'd been special to him once, but Cealia was special to him now, and I just wasn't anymore.

I stood up off the couch, pulled on my shoes and jacket, and slammed out the back door, leaving it hanging wide open.

DARRY'S POV

It hit me about halfway home what I'd forgotten, and I think I broke my land-speed record the rest of the way home. I couldn't believe I'd forgotten. Of all the things I could've forgot, this had to be it.

I pulled up in front of the house, jumped out of the car, and hurried up the front steps. "Shit shit shit shit shit…" I shoved the door open.

The living room was empty, devoid of my kid brother. I hurried down the hall to his room, needing to apologize, explain-

He wasn't there. I stared at the cold bed, still not made from when we'd taken him to the hospital.

As I went back out to the living room, I poked my head in Ponyboy and Soda's room just to be sure. Nope. They were both sound asleep.

I looked around for clues as to where Motley could be. His jacket was gone, and so were his shoes. Okay. He'd gone out. But gone out where? When had he given up on me?

That's when I noticed the back door hanging wide open. I went over. One of the hinges was broken. When he'd left, he'd been _**pissed**_.

"He ain't here." I heard a voice behind me say.

I turned. Sodapop was standing there, looking at me like I was Satan incarnate.

"Then where is he?"

"Hell if I know."

"Sodapop…"

"He waited for you." I took a step back, startled by the venom in Soda's voice. "He waited so long for you. At least until midnight. He was so sure you'd call. And what did he get from you? _**Nothing**_."

"Soda-"

"You should've chosen your words more carefully when you left, Darry. How d'you think that sounded to him?"

"How do I think what sounded?"

"If I didn't love you, I wouldn't call."

I felt like the bottom had dropped out of my stomach. Oh no. Oh hell. "He didn't take it that way, right? He didn't mention that to you, did he?"

"Yeah, he did. He said at least now he knows, and I was all know what, and he repeated that at me."

" _ **Shit**_. What've I done, Soda?"

"I think you've made sure he's done with you. For good. And so am I." And he turned around and left. A second later, I heard his door slam.

Damn it. What was the matter with me? Were messes all I could make? It was like I was trying to tear my family apart. First I'd hit Ponyboy, now I'd basically told Motley to his face that I didn't love him, and Soda was mad on his twin's behalf. Bet you anything Ponyboy would be pissed with me in the morning too.

I sat down heavily on the couch. I felt like the worst person alive. What was I doing to my family? What would Mom and Dad think of me if they saw me now? How mad would they be at me for hitting Ponyboy? For what I'd done to Motley? If someone else had done these things to my brothers, I'd've made sure they never saw the light of day again. Never.

So how could I possibly be so careless as to do this to them myself?

MOTLEY'S POV

I'd never been this stupid drunk in my life. Not to mention I was hurting in about fifty different places, courtesy of a couple of fights I'd gotten into that were a little harder than I'd thought they'd be. This wasn't the kind of condition I'd usually even dream of going home in, but I couldn't help it. I was done being alone. I needed Soda. I needed my brother.

As I stumbled through the front door, Darry got to his feet from off the couch quickly. "Motley."

I hadn't been expecting to run into him. I'd thought maybe he'd stayed overnight at Cealia's. It'd been too long since he'd got any action anyhow. Maybe that's why he was always so pissed.

And suddenly the floodgates broke.

" _ **I waited for you**_!" I screamed at the top of my lungs. " _ **Why didn't you just tell me to my face that you hate me?! Why don't I mean anything to you anymore?!"**_

"Motley, that ain't it. I do love you-"

" _ **LIAR!**_ " I grabbed a vase off the shelf next to me and hurled it into the wall, watching in shatter into a million pieces.

Funny how seemingly meaningless objects can remind you so much of yourself.

Soda and Ponyboy had come to the end of the hallway and were watching me scream at Darry.

"Motley, please-"

" _ **Is it her?! Is it that bitch?! Did she tell you you couldn't care about me anymore, is that it?! That there's only room for one of us in your life and you had to choose?! Huh, Darry?! Damn it, ANSWER ME!**_ "

"I would if you'd just give me a chance." he said, trying really hard to stay calm. What he'd have to be anything but calm about was beyond me. What was his deal? "It slipped my mind. I forgot 'cause-"

"'Cause you were with her." I muttered, leaning back against the wall. All the fight went out of me like that, and suddenly, all I wanted to do was cry. "Fine. Whatever. I don't care anymore. As long as you're happy."

I turned and started to walk away, but he came forward and grabbed my arm. "Motley, please, just listen to me. I'm sorry. There's no excuse for what I've gone and done. But I am sorry."

I pulled my arm out of his grip. "Whatever."

"Motley, I'm just tryin' to help you."

"Why don't ya help Ponyboy for a change, huh? He lost somebody too. Why don't ya give him a hand? He could use it. I don't think I can take much more of your help."

He stared at me, stricken.

Point Motley.

I headed off back to my room and collapsed on my bed. What had I done to deserve this?

A second later, the door opened and Soda slid in. He came and flopped down on the bed next to me, both of us staring at the ceiling and enjoying each other's company, just like we used to. "Hey."

"Hey."

"Did you mean that? As long as you're happy?"

"I guess so. He deserves to be happy. He ain't been in so long, it really ain't fair in the end. He didn't wanna take care of us, but got stuck with it. The least I can do is get over hating his girl."

"Can't ya find somethin' to like about her?"

"Well, the broad's a ten, I'll give her that." I admitted grudgingly.

Soda started laughing. "Seriously?"

"Would it shock you to know that the first time I met her, before I knew who she was, I tried to pick her up?"

"Don't let Darry hear you say that. You know how touchy he's been about pickin' up girls since the socs said that's why they jumped Pony and Johnny."

I laughed a little. "He's always so uptight about the stupidest things."

"He's loosened up a little lately."

"A little, I guess. Wonder why that is?"

Soda started laughing harder. "'Cause he's finally gettin' some action."

We just sat there and laughed for the next ten minutes. Everything seemed so ridiculous all of a sudden.

See what I meant when I said I needed Soda? He made everything better. He could make anyone laugh. He fixed everything. Always.

And he was _**my**_ twin.


	12. Last Chance Big Brother

_Author's note: I magically found time to post this, so I hope you all realize how close you came to getting absolutely nothing until Monday._

 **Disclaimer: The Outsiders isn't mine, but I can claim Motley, and I do so with pride**

 _ **Chapter 12: Last Chance Big Brother**_

MOTLEY'S POV

I guess I fell asleep at some point, 'cause when I woke up, the sun was setting and Soda was asleep next to me. He looked so tired. I smiled sadly. He worked too hard.

I'd wanted to drop out of school just like him, but Darry wasn't having it. Soda'd dropped out without him knowing, being sixteen and all, and he'd been pissed enough about it that he called the school and told them that if either of his other brothers came in and tried to do the same, the school administration had better call and tell him before they okayed it. Otherwise, he'd make their lives miserable. He had connections. He could stir up a good old fashioned greaser riot any old time he wanted.

So instead I skipped when I felt so inclined and I was currently failing everything. Maybe I'd wind up like Two-Bit, still a junior at eighteen and a half.

Like Two-Bit...

I shuddered. Maybe not.

I climbed out of the bed and went to take a shower. It'd been long enough since I'd last done that.

When I got out and went into the kitchen, towel wrapped around my waist, I ran into Steve and Two-Bit. "How goes it?"

"Better than it sounds like it's gone for you." Two-Bit said.

I cocked an eyebrow. "To which part of my messed up life are you referring?"

"The part where you're older brother practically told you to your face that he don't love you."

I went scarlet. "Oh. That part."

"Where's Soda?" Steve asked irritably. "He didn't show at work today."

"Asleep. And don't you dare bug him. He deserves some rest."

"Was he really up all night?" Two-Bit asked.

"Hell if I know. I wasn't here."

"Where were you then? All Darry told us was that he felt like shit 'cause he promised he'd call and he forgot. Plus some unfortunate wording."

"Well, that about sums it up. And he should feel like shit. He is."

"But where were you?"

"Out. Got a problem with that?"

"No. Jeez. Touchy touchy."

"Shut up."

Two-Bit opened his mouth to answer, but we were interrupted by a voice behind us. "Guys?"

I turned. Soda was standing there, looking sleepy and confused. He always gets like that when he's just woken up. "What time is it?"

"I dunno. Sunset?"

"Pony likes sunset." he muttered. He can come up with some of the weirdest things sometimes. "Is Pony watchin' the sunset? He likes to do that."

"How should I know?"

He stared at me kind of funny for a second. "Why're ya wearin' a towel?"

"'Cause I took a shower. A practice I'd suggest to you."

"Okay." he said easily. "I'll go get a shower, and you'll go get some clothes."

"Okay." I waved him on his way.

It was always easy to get Soda to do things right after he woke up. He took every suggestion, not really having any ideas of his own. He was too tired to think for himself.

"Well, I said I'd get some clothes, guys. Give me a minute."

As I headed back to the hallway, Ponyboy came through the back door. So he was watching the sunset. "Hey, Motley. How ya doin'?" His voice was cautious, like he thought I was gonna pound him.

"What, you think I'm gonna hurt you? It's Darry I'm pissed at. You need to chill."

"Right. Sorry." He smiled slightly.

I smiled back, not wanting him to think I was blowing him off when in reality that was exactly what I was doing, and headed back to my room.

Clothes. Yeah. Clothes were a good idea.

I had barely gotten my jeans on when the door opened and Darry came in.

"Jeez, learn to knock." I muttered, staying turned away from him. I was feeling a lot of conflicting emotions just then, I knew they were showing on my face, and I didn't want him to see. I'm Motley. I'm tough. I don't _**feel**_.

"Motley, I know you're angry-"

"I don't think angry quite covers it, but if that's what you're gonna choose to call it."

"Kid, I just forgot."

Alright, I don't give a damn if you see how I'm feeling. I _**want**_ you to see. I want you to understand what you're doing to me.

I whirled to face him. "And how do you think that makes me feel? You forgot me 'cause you were with that bitch! Is that supposed to make it all better?"

"Motley, please-"

"No! Stop it! You don't got any rights anymore! I'm done with your bullshit! If you don't stop it, I'm leaving! You hear me?! I'm damn well leaving, and there's nothin' you'll be able to do about it! Last chance, big brother! You think you can find me if I don't wanna be found? I'd like to see you try."

Darry didn't have an answer for that one.

I shoved past him, leaving him behind in my bedroom. I wasn't really paying attention to where I was going and ran smack into Soda.

"Sorry, man."

He didn't say anything. I looked at him more closely, and from the look on his face, realized he'd heard me and Darry's conversation.

Well, if you can call that a conversation.

"Didja mean that?" he finally said. "You didn't mean that, right? You wouldn't do that, wouldja?"

I wished so much that I could tell him that no, I hadn't meant it, and no, I wouldn't do that, but that would be lying. Even though I'd lied to Soda many times before, I couldn't bring myself to lie to him now. "Yeah. I meant it. He's on his last chance, Soda."

"But…"

"Listen. If I do wind up goin', I'll call you and Ponyboy, 'kay? Darry can't count on anything, but I'll call you. And I'll come back to visit when I can be sure Darry ain't gonna be around."

Soda nodded slowly. "I just don't wanna lose you too. Not after everythin' else."

"You ain't gonna lose me. I'm goin' out to eat tonight, so don't bother makin' nothin' for me, alright?" There I go again. If the conversation gets near anything personal, my usual reaction is to change the subject as soon as I've said what's required.

He smiled, but it was half-hearted, not the blinding one I was used to. The one that, no matter how much I didn't want to admit it, made my day in ways I've never been able to explain. Soda just has that effect on people. "Alright. Have fun."

I was on my way out the door when Ponyboy suddenly appeared next to me. "Can I come with you?"

For a moment, I was incredibly tempted to say no. It was a weird question anyway. We never did stuff like this. Ever. At all. But then I took in the look on his face and changed my mind. "Alright. Get your shoes and let's go."

He smiled and ran back to his room. Soda just smiled too and mouthed 'thank you.'

I nodded back. Whatever, man.

XxXxX

Sitting across from Ponyboy in the first random diner I came across, I picked at my food, unsure of what to say. My appetite was still sorta non-existent, and that wasn't helping matters. I didn't even have the 'I'm not talking because I'm eating' excuse.

"Motley, I didn't ask to come to just sit here. I actually wanna talk to you."

I looked up at him, startled. It was the first thing he'd said since we got here besides ordering his food. As soon as I got over being shocked, I said, "Sure, kid. Wassup?"

"I know this sounds insane, but… have you talked to Dal anymore?"

Well, this was _not_ a subject I wanted to get into. Especially considering how it was received last time. "I'm probably just dreamin' it all up, kid. I mean, it's nice, but it probably ain't real…"

"So you have?" Pushy little thing, ain't he?

"If you wanna get technical, yeah. What about you? Any more dreams about Johnny?" I was honestly kind of curious.

"Yeah. He mentioned Dally talking to you. It just doesn't seem like it can be a coincidence."

In my head, something about this conversation clicked. "So _that's_ why you asked to come. You didn't wanna talk about this where Darry could hear and tell us we're wrong."

"Well…"

"Ponyboy, I know this'll seem cold, but what does it matter? So what if it's real or not? At least we got somethin', and that's what counts. It just… it don't matter in the end. We'll never be able to figure it out for sure. There's just no way to know."

I could tell he'd been braced for a lot of answers, but that wasn't the one he expected. "You ain't even a little bit curious?"

"Of course I'm curious. I've just got so much goin' on right now that I ain't gonna break my back tryin' to figure out somethin' I don't got any chance of actually managing to work my way through. And you got enough to worry about too."

"I guess that makes sense."

Suddenly, I was struck by a random thought, one I'm surprised I hadn't had before now. Just goes to show the weird directions my head goes. "Ponykid, when're Johnny and Dal's funerals? There's only so long bodies are gonna keep, y'know."

An expression crossed Ponyboy's face that was so full of misery, I felt bad for being the cause of it. "Motley… they already happened."

Well, this was news to me. "Say what now?"

"While you were in the hospital… from the sleeping pills…"

My head was reeling. Already happened? And I didn't get to go? He was my best friend, and I didn't even get to go?

Damn my stupidity to hell.

"Did anybody even go?" I had to know. Somebody had to have gone. Dally and Johnny couldn't have been laid to rest alone. It just wasn't right.

"Of course. I mean, the Cade's wouldn't let us go to the funeral or the burial, so we all stopped off at different times later. I don't even know who forked over the money for Dally, but he didn't have a funeral. They just buried him. Soda stayed with you in the hospital, but the rest of us went to that."

Okay, something about all this made no sense. "Pony, I wasn't out of it for that long. How come nobody told me Dally and Johnny's… whatever-you-call-those were that day?"

"We didn't even know that morning. Darry had to do some digging around 'cause nobody told us. That's actually why I came back to your room. To tell you. Did anybody tell you I was the one who found you?"

"No. But I know."

He cocked an eyebrow in confusion. He was getting better at that. "What does that mean?"

I realized my mistake a little too late. With all that information to take in, it just slipped out before I paused and thought about it. "Nothin'. Don't think about it. It's… it's nothin'."

"No way. Don't give me that. I know you. What d'you mean?"

He was gonna think I was crazy. But what could it hurt to tell him? Have a little heart-to-heart with my kid brother for the first time in a long time. It'd been too long. "Ponykid, you've heard of - what-d'you-call-ems - out of body experiences, right?"

Pony's eyes widened. "How much were you there for?"

How much of this did I wanna tell? "I saw you find me. I saw you get Darry and Soda. I followed you guys to the hospital. I sat in the waiting room with you for a while, then…"

"Then what?"

"I left. Let's just leave it at that."

"Nope. Then what?" See? What'd I tell ya? Pushy.

"It hurt like hell, and I left. That's it."

Ponyboy nodded. I could see in his eyes that he understood. He understood why I wasn't going into detail. I think he could tell I'd been left to scream in pain all on my own. Something I suppose he understood, on some deeper level.

We left that place with a deeper understanding of each other as people, and how we'd gotten where we were. There was a connection with my baby brother that hadn't been there before. One I didn't understand, and I had no idea how it got there, but I liked it. It was a nice feeling, one I'd only gotten with Dallas. And Soda when we were younger. I was just starting to realize how much I missed it.

Ugh, I'm getting way too mushy here. You'd think I was going soft. I'll shut up now.

 ** _Isn't Soda cute when he's half asleep?_**

 ** _PLEASE REVIEW! IT MAKES ME SO HAPPY!_**


	13. Silence

_Author's note: I was working on this the other day and I almost lost the document and had the closest thing I ever get to a panic attack (never actually had one of those, hope it stays that way) but I managed to recover it, so eveyrthing's okay. Gotta love failsafes. Whew. Either way, enjoy._

 _Before all y'all get on me about the dates in this chapter, like people seem to enjoy doing, I just went off the book. Two weeks before Soda's birthday, October 8th, is September 24th, and Darry said Pony'd been 'asleep and delirious since Saturday night' and in 1966, the 24th, was a Saturday. It all checks out. So don't say I didn't do my research on this one._

 **Disclaimer: The Outsiders is not mine, just Motley and my warped mind.**

 _ **Chapter 13: Silence**_

MOTLEY'S POV

I dropped Ponyboy off at home, simply asking him to tell Darry and Soda that I'd be out for a couple more hours. He didn't question it, just promised to deliver the message. He knew what this was about. He isn't stupid.

The cemetery. I hadn't been back here in so long. Soda and Darry and Ponyboy went occasionally, all together or separately, to deliver flowers, but I just never had it in me to do it. I couldn't. Those rotting corpses in the ground weren't my parents. My parents were gone. Somewhere else. If my brothers insist on being morbid and bringing bodies presents, if it makes them feel better, then so be it. I have better things to do with my time than thoroughly depress myself, though.

But I wasn't back here for them today. I was here for someone else.

It was a simple marker. Nothing fancy. Just a small, flat stone with his name and the dates of his birth and death.

 _ **Dallas Tucker Winston**_

 _ **November 9th, 1948 - September 24th, 1966**_

He deserved more. And I would give it to him. I flicked out my switchblade.

I'm not sure how long I sat there, carving into that rock. I just know it was a long time, and I was exhausted when I was done.

 _ **The tuffest guy in town, my loyal brother and friend. The world may forget, but we never will.**_

There. That's what he deserved.

Was I ever gonna come back here? Probably not. Just like with my parents, I knew this wasn't Dallas. This was just what was left of where he'd been for a while. That's all.

I sat there and leaned against the convenient tree right next to the grave. I didn't feel like going home just yet. I was gonna close my eyes for a minute. Glory, chiseling things from stone sure does make you tired…

"Well, hello."

"Hey, Dal."

"That was real nice of you."

"What?"

"What you put on my grave."

"It was nothin', man. Don't mention it."

Dallas and I were sitting on my back steps this time. Nobody was around. The world was silent and empty.

"How you holdin' up?"

"I'm sure you know exactly how I'm holdin' up. Stalker."

"Alright, that's fair. I just ask 'cause I know it's polite. Did you mean it?"

"Mean what?"

"When you told Darry he's on his last chance, and you're outta here if he don't shape up. Did you mean it?"

"Damn straight I meant it. You honestly think I'd say that if I didn't mean it?"

"Just had to check. We all say and do things we don't mean when we ain't handlin' somethin' well."

"When'd you get so deep?"

"Somewhere between doin' somethin' I didn't mean when I wasn't handlin' somethin' well and the pearly gates."

"So you actually made it to heaven?"

"Well… no. But I don't think you will either, so what's it matter?"

"I dunno."

We sat in companionable silence for a minute.

"Motley, Darry loves you."

That has got to be the most random thing Dallas has ever said to me.

When I didn't answer, he continued. "Seriously. I know you think he doesn't, but he does. He just doesn't know how to show it. You gotta be patient with him. He makes mistakes, just like the next person. That's all."

"Dal, you're great and everythin', and I've really missed you, but you need to shut the hell up now."

He nodded slightly. "Alright. I get it. I forgot you ain't enlightened yet. If I were you, I wouldn't listen to me either."

"Enlightened?" Now there was a word I never thought I'd hear come out of either of our mouths.

"When you die, you gain some… let's call it perspective. Perspective you don't have yet. Believe me, if I hadn't seen it yet, I wouldn't listen to me either. So you take your time, and when you figure it out, we'll talk more about it. Cool?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"You sure can't seem to make up your mind about anythin'."

"I just don't have it in me to think right now."

"I suppose that makes sense."

"You hear that?"

"Hear what?"

"Shh! Listen."

The sound of sirens was coming again. I could hear the running… the shouting… the gunshots…

"Oh shit, not again." I moaned. "I don't wanna do that again. Twice is enough."

Dallas grabbed my wrists. "Motley, listen to me. _Focus._ "

The sounds continued getting louder, invading my subconscious. I couldn't shut them off. "I-I can't."

"C'mon, man. I know you got it in you."

Well, it's real cute you got that much faith in me, Dal, 'cause I sure as hell don't.

And just like that, Dallas was gone.

" **Motley."**

 **I didn't even have to do the whole run down the street before somebody's voice interrupted, causing me to turn and see who had caught up with me. I recognized the voice, but I wasn't sure I was willing to believe what my senses were telling me. "Mom?"**

" **Hello, baby."**

 **Okay,** _ **she**_ **could call me that. I really was her baby.**

 **She walked towards me, the blonde hair Soda and I inherited rippling in the breeze, the bright green eyes Ponyboy got shining in the dark.**

" **Mama…" I half sobbed, stumbling towards her.**

 **She took a step back and let me fall to my knees in front of her.**

 **I looked up at her. "Mama... don't you - love me anymore?" I couldn't stop the gut wrenching sobs as I just knelt there. I've been hurt in just about every way imaginable. But to be betrayed by your own mother, to have her let you fall when all you need is some love from someone older than you who has never let you down, can protect you, an emotion so foreign now that you're honestly starting to forget what it feels like…**

 **No child should ever have to feel that.**

 **She didn't answer me.**

" **Mama…" Glory, why couldn't I stop with this word? I hadn't called her mama since I was seven. It was always mom. "Did I do something? Whatever it is, I'm sorry. I'm so damn sorry. Please don't hate me. Please. Please don't…"**

 **Silence.**

 **I couldn't talk anymore. I was crying too hard. What had I done? What? I didn't understand.**

 **What could possibly be done to make a woman take a step back without her child and let them fall?**

 **The scene around me started dissolving, just like with Dallas. Mom smiled down at me, and as I jolted awake to a hand on my shoulder, she whispered, "Don't you give up on yourself, baby."**


	14. Then Talk To Me

_Author's note: Well, I hope I haven't overly depressed you all yet, because there's definitely chapters worth of depressing things to come. Please enjoy what I have to offer. I try._

 **Disclaimer: The Outsiders is not mine, but Motley is.**

 _ **Chapter 14: Then Talk To Me**_

MOTLEY'S POV

"Motley, wake up."

I opened my eyes. "Soda. Hey."

"You were crying in your sleep." He looked kind of like he wanted to cry himself.

I wiped my hand across my eyes and it came away wet. Huh. I didn't know you could cry in your sleep. Guess it makes sense. "It doesn't matter, Soda. Just drop it.

"What're you doin' out here? It's been hours since Pony got home. He said you'd only be out for another couple of those. What're you doin' out here?" That's another thing Soda tends to do when he's worried or scared. Repeat things he's already said.

"Sleepin'."

"Okay, smartass. What're you **_really_** doin' out here?"

I stood up and stretched, then shyly (I think that's the first time I've ever done anything shyly) gestured towards Dal's grave. "Payin' my respects."

Soda looked down, and his eyes widened in shock. He bent down closer to read it.

I didn't say anything. There wasn't anything else to say. The grave said it all.

After a couple minutes, he looked back up at me. "It's beautiful."

I honestly was proud of it. The letters were straight and even and deep. That wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. "Well, I wasn't about to do a half-assed job, was I? He deserved more than what he had, so I gave it to him."

Soda stood up and put a hand on my shoulder. "I'm sorry you didn't get to come earlier."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Well, you know me; I'm scatterbrained. It slipped my mind what with everythin' else that was goin' on."

I nodded, understanding. I was the same way. When something more immediate was going on, I tended to forget other things too.

"Let's go home, okay? Darry's about ready to blow a gasket."

"Good for him." I scoffed.

Soda just shook his head and we started the long walk home. That was another reason we didn't come here tons. Convenience.

When we walked in the front door, Darry looked up from the couch where he'd been watching TV without actually watching it, if you know what I mean. "Motley, where the _hell_ did you go?"

"Darry." Soda said sharply. "If I were you, I'd just shut the shit up."

"Watch your language, Soda." I really do find it funny that Darry still fights that battle with Soda and Ponyboy. He gave up with me, and rightly so, five minutes after our parents died when all I seemed to be able to say was f this, f that, f you, f me, f life, f everybody, f everything. That's not usually me; the f word is one I actually generally draw the line on since it literally made Mom cry the one time I said it in front of her. I didn't use it after that unless I was really losing it.

But I just hadn't had it in me that day.

"Make me why don'tcha, you fuc-"

"Soda, stop." I said quietly.

Both Darry and Soda fell silent, staring at me. I can't blame them. If I were them, I'd be staring at me too.

"Just… don't make it worse than it already is, man. He ain't done nothin' to you. Just 'cause me and Darry's relationship's gonna suck till the day we die don't mean yours needs to."

I actually managed to find some savage pleasure at the expression on Darry's face at the words 'gonna suck till the day we die'. "Motley, c'mon… we can still fix this…"

"Maybe I don't wanna." I turned and headed back into my bedroom without another word. Maybe I really didn't wanna. I mean, why the hell should I? After everything he's done, I was honestly really enjoying those hurt expressions on his face. Maybe now he could understand some of the hell I was already going through and really feel some remorse for everything he'd done to me that just made it worse.

I was not expecting Ponyboy to be sitting on my bed, waiting.

"Hey, kid. What's up?" I said warily from the door. People aren't usually just waiting in my room for a good reason. For the last eight months, the only times that's happened is when Darry's found out about something I've done and is all ready to ream me out. Sure has been happening a lot over the last little while, though. Why can't they all just leave well enough alone?

"Motley, you gotta stop fighting with Darry." He was so serious, I thought I might actually start laughing, but I knew that would be a bad idea in this situation. Especially since I couldn't let anyone think they could actually get away with telling me what to do.

"And why, pray tell, should I do that?"

"It's buggin' Soda. He was talkin' to me about it the other day. He wants me and Darry to lay off each other, and you and Darry to lay off each other. He hates it when we fight. I mean he _really_ hates it."

"And he ain't man enough to come in here and ask me to make nice myself?"

"It ain't like that, Motley, and you know it. I asked if I could talk to you about it instead."

Okay, _**that**_ was not what I expected. Defense of Soda? Yes. Whatever it was that just came out of his mouth? No. "Why the hell wouldja do that?"

"'Cause we don't ever talk anymore except for just barely, and… I dunno, I was gettin' the sense that if you'd listen to anybody, you'd listen to me."

"Real cute, kid."

He just looked at me, hurt.

I sighed, running a hand through my hair as I sat down on the bed next to him. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. I'm just still a little worked up is all."

He eyed me, and I could tell by the look on his face that he could see right through me. "You had another nightmare, huh? You just ain't told anyone."

Of course he'd know. He was the nutcase who woke up screaming every night for weeks on end after our parents died. He'd know when somebody was being haunted by something they couldn't fight.

Don't tell anyone I told you this, but I honestly felt real bad for him that whole time we couldn't get the nightmares to go away. Nobody else knew that.. I'd just told them all that I was annoyed with getting woken up all the time. Every damn night.

I said it, but I didn't mean it.

"What's it matter, Ponykid? It ain't like I can fix em, make em go away. They're just there. Somethin' I gotta deal with whether I like it or not."

He shook his head adamantly. "You don't have to if you don't wanna."

"I ain't sharin' a bed with no one, if that's what you're gettin' at. Excuse me for likin' my space."

"Motley, part of what makes the nightmares better is havin' Soda there. But the other part is havin' somebody to talk to afterwards."

"What d'you talk about? You said you can't remember your dreams."

"Just 'cause you can't remember what actually happened doesn't mean you can't remember how it made you feel."

"Well, I remember the whole damn shebang. Events, feelings, whatever the hell else shit you're talkin' about."

"Then talk to me."

"Ponykid, that's real sweet and all, but I don't know if I wanna."

"Nobody ever does. That doesn't change that it always helps."

"I dunno…"

"C'mon, Motley. You know it's for the best."

Ponyboy and I looked up, startled by the voice at the door. It was Soda, leaning against the doorframe. Heaven knows how much he'd heard.

Standing up straight, he came over and sat down on my other side. "Talk, man."

Talk. The thing I'd been trying to do that had gotten us all in this mess in the first place. Why should I, really? If all it ended in was abandonment, was there really any point?

Soda could tell exactly what was going through my head. "It ain't like that this time. You guys never got around to the actual conversation."

That was a fair point. I exhaled deeply.

"Fine."


	15. I Wanna Get Off

_Author's note: So, this one's a little longer than usual, so you're welcome. Also, I'm gonna be honest with you, I originally wasn't going to write out the conversation itself. I couldn't figure out what to do with it. I was just going to give you the tail end and leave the rest up to your imagination. But inspiration struck and I wound up writing the whole thing. So, again, you're welcome._

 _I don't really say who said each sentence, so that's kind of up to your own interpretation. Good luck figuring some of those out. Some are obvious, some aren't. Whatever._

 **Disclaimer: None of this is mine except Motley. And my new model cars from Easter. Yeah. Those are mine.**

 ** _Chapter 15: I Wanna Get Off_**

MOTLEY'S POV

"I just don't know what to do. I'm so sick of losing everything. Nothing ever stays."

"Motley, that's not true."

"Yeah, we're still here."

"That's what I thought! I kept telling myself that I still had my brothers and it'd be okay. That I shouldn't give up just yet. But then Darry left me too!"

"Darry cares, he's just got a hard time showin' it."

"Don't bullshit me, Ponyboy. You don't even believe what's comin' out of your own mouth."

"I didn't used to, but I get it now."

"Sure. Whatever." I was ready to be done. Good talk.

Shut it off. Just shut it off.

"Motley, listen to me. You just gotta give him another chance."

"I am! That's why I'm not gone already!" Shut it off. Shut it off.

"See? You're not as heartless as you want us all to think."

I needed to change this subject. "Where do they go, man? When they… leave. Where do they go?" No, stop it. Don't go there. Shut it off, shut it off...

"I don't know. But we don't need to know that right now."

"But what if they're gone forever? What if this is it? What if it's actually like Dal always said? Life's a bitch and then you die, get over it." Stop being honest. I don't want this. I don't want this anymore. I wanna get off, I wanna get off, I wanna get off...

"That's not how it is, though."

"Easy for you to say, sunshine-and-rainbows. You're always happy, nothing ever goes wrong for you." Insult people and they'll go away...

"Motley, that ain't true. You know it ain't."

Yeah. I did know. I really do just say things I don't mean sometimes because I don't know what else to do. Shit, why wasn't it working?

"You just gotta look past it."

"It's hard when it's comin' at you from every direction." Give them surface answers, that'll be enough...

"I know. But I can do it. And that means you can too. We're twins. We can't be that different."

It was nice that somebody had confidence in me for once. Or maybe they'd had confidence in me all along, and I'd just been too angry to see it.

"You're mad at everything, I get it. I was real mad for a bit there too. We all were. But you and Darry are the ones that're hangin' onto it. You're more alike than you think. You're both scared and hurt, and it comes out mad."

"Darry? Scared?" Heartless, cold, hateful Darry...

"He's only twenty, Motley."

I didn't wanna listen to this anymore. "I'm only sixteen, and I'd've known better than to do what he did."

"Just give him some time."

I snorted. You'd think they'd stop using the same old argument.

"Fine, you don't wanna talk about that? How about Dallas?"

I hesitated. I needed this. I knew it. But did I want it?

"Motley…"

"I'm lonely." There. It was out there. "He might as well've been my brother. He got me when nobody else did. And now he's gone, and… I really just don't know what to do anymore." It all came back to this feeling of powerlessness. Always. I couldn't control anything. Why couldn't I control anything?

No! Stop! Put it away, put it away...

"You'll see him again. And until then, you've got us."

"But what's that worth? Darry said I had him too, and look where that got me." Cold, hard reality. It's always there in the end.

"We're not Darry, and you've still got him. Maybe he made some mistakes, but you've got him. You ain't never actually alone. You hear me? If you don't listen to anything else we've said, I want you to pay attention to that one. You ain't never actually alone. Pone and me… we're always gonna be here."

I'd heard that before. But maybe… just maybe...

"You ready to tell us about that dream now, man?"

They'd understand. They had too.

"I was goin' back there again. Back to the lot. I'm sick of watchin' Dal die, but I can't exactly stop it. Thing is, I didn't make it all the way there. Mom showed up."

They stared at me, wide-eyed.

"She didn't care."

"Motley-"

"Shh!"

"I always wonder if she'd hate me for the things I've been doin'. What she's thinkin about, lookin' down at me. And it was like… like I didn't even matter to her anymore."

Stop before it gets too far…

"She just… It didn't matter what I said! She didn't even say anythin'! She just stood there! She didn't care that I just wanted… I don't even know what I wanted. Then when you woke me up, Soda… she said somethin'. Somethin' that didn't make any sense. She told me not to give up on myself. What the shit did she mean by that? I just… I dunno, man. Everythin's just so screwed up."

Keep it back, keep it back, keep it back…

No dice.

"It wasn't supposed to end this way! Dallas should be here, Johnny should be here, Mom and Dad should be here! Darry should care, and everything should be fine! Damn it, I dunno if I can handle much more of this. I just don't. I'm so damn sick of it all."

Wow. It felt _**damn**_ good to get all that off my chest. Everything I'd been burning to say since Mom and Dad died, it was all out there now. With the only two people on this planet that I felt like I could trust anymore. They could help me. They always had.

"Motley, I-"

Soda got cut off by Darry coming in the door. "Guys, go to bed. It's late."

"Darry, we're kinda in the middle of something." Soda hissed angrily.

I just turned away. "He's right, guys. It's late."

I wanna get off...

I guess that's when Darry realized the kind of scene he'd walked in on. "Oh. Well, you can stay a little longer if you need to…"

"Nah, it doesn't matter." I continued, still staring at my blanket, not any of the people with me. Clamming up all over again. "Said everythin' that's important already anyhow."

I wanna get off...

There was a moment of silence, then Soda and Ponyboy stood up from the bed, each squeezing my shoulder before they walked out. Darry stayed where he was.

"Motley, look-"

"Get out." I didn't sound angry. Not the way you'd think, anyhow. I sounded… well, I sounded like I was gonna put a bullet between his eyes without blinking unless he did, and I wouldn't feel a thing about it. "Just get out."

And get out he did, quietly shutting my door behind him. He'd been on the receiving end of my temper many times, and I guess he didn't wanna repeat the experience unless it was absolutely necessary.

Which left me, once again, all alone.

So? What else was new?

Remember how I mentioned that you could hear basically anything that goes on in our house, whether people are talking or wrestling or what?

Yeah, I want you to pause and picture how easily we could hear shouting.

And when Soda shouts, he _**shouts**_.

"Damn it, Darry! We were finally gettin' somewhere! He told us everything! I mean literally damn well everything! And it was some seriously messed up shit, Darry! We were gonna fix this!"

"Watch your language, little buddy."

"I really ain't in the mood right now, you son of a bitch!"

"At least not in front of Ponyboy, Soda."

Ponyboy's voice entered the conversation. "Oh, you think he's the only one with some choice words for you, you bastard? When he's done with you, it's my turn."

Despite the fact that our much needed conversation had been cut short, I couldn't help but almost a glow inside at their words. Maybe Darry didn't give a damn, but they cared. They were defending me. They cared how I felt.

The question is, was it enough reason to stay? 'Cause I was honestly pretty sure I wouldn't. I loved my family. I really did. But I didn't know if I was willing to stick around for this.

Besides, it's not like it would be goodbye forever. I could still write Soda and Ponyboy, and call. Maybe even come back to see them every now and then. Just like I'd told Soda when he asked me whether I was really willing to go through with it.

Really, it was up to my older brother whether I stayed or went.

Well, Darry. Your move.

XxXxX

"Well, hello again. Long time no see."

"Dal, c'mon."

"No, seriously. It's been, what, a couple hours? Tops?"

This time we were at the Dingo, surrounded by people I didn't recognize.

"Who're all these people?"

"Other people who've died and like to hang out here. Some of em are still alive and just talkin' to somebody in a dream, like you. Most of em are dead."

"So, basically, we're in the middle of a bunch of dead people?"

"Basically."

"And that don't… weird you out at all?"

"Hey, watch it, man. I'm one of those dead people."

Is it horrible that, for just a second, I forgot? That this was such a familiar scene, Dallas and me sitting at the Dingo making fun of everybody around us, that I blanked on the fact that we belonged in different places?

Not together. Not anymore.

"Okay, you're gettin' depressed on me again." he said, waving a smoke in front of my face. "Take this. It'll help."

I took it and lit up. "I ain't depressed. Just sad."

He cocked an eyebrow. "There's a difference?"

"Yeah. One's somethin' that they can diagnose, y'know, like, medically. The other one's just an emotion."

"You sure you can't be diagnosed?"

"Well, I'm not about to go find out."

"Just 'cause you know you wouldn't pass."

"Right after your best friend dies and your brother makes it obvious he doesn't love you is not a fair time to test."

"Right after your mom acts like that."

My head snapped up. "What'd you just say?" How the hell had he known?

"Motley, I'm all-knowing spirit. Give me some credit."

"But Dal, that's personal. Who else could see that?" I looked at all the spirits around me, suddenly suspicious.

I'm always suspicious.

"Maybe you should share some personal stuff with somebody other than Ponyboy and Soda and me every now and then."

I held my hand out to him. "Hi. I'm Motley. Have we met?"

He swatted my hand away. "Very funny. Seriously, though. Talkin' it out with those two sure seemed to help."

"It's kinda sad that you got nothin' better to do with your afterlife than stalk me twenty-four seven."

"Quit bein' evasive. It helped and you know it. Now imagine how much it would help if you just talked it out with Darry-"

"Remember last time I gave that a shot? Didn't happen, and the world fell apart. If I never gave that a shot, I would be sittin' here, and have no idea that I don't matter to him anymore."

"You're sayin' you wouldn't rather have the truth?"

"They say ignorance is bliss."

"Motley, have you met _**yourself**_? That ain't like you. Not at all. You've always wanted the truth instead of lies, no matter how much happier you'd be if you didn't know."

"I don't know what I want anymore, Dal. All I know is that when I'm alone, I wanna be l with someone, and when I'm with someone, I wanna be alone. Maybe the change of pace'll make me happy for a minute, but then it's right back to wanting things to be different. Maybe I'd rather have the lies. If it could fix everything."

"Motley, nothing can fix this. Nothing. That's just how it rolls sometimes." He sighed, picking up and sipping a coke that seemed to come out of nowhere. "Look, you deserve somethin' happy for a few minutes."

"Huh?"

"I can give you a happy dream for once, if you want."

Well, that was news to me. "If you can control my dreams, why didn't you stop the other one?"

"I can't control your dreams, dumbass. I never said that. I just said I could give you somethin' happy. We're on my turf right now. That other one, that ain't my turf. So there's nothin' I can do there. Besides, it's still up to you in the end. I can only give you things if you accept them. If you let me, everything is mine for the taking."

"You sound a little power happy."

"Wouldn't you be?"

"I guess so."

"So, you want somethin' happy, or d'you just wanna wake up and forget it?"

"Somethin' happy for once. Please."

Just for once...

 _ **I was ten years old. Darry was at football practice, (junior high football. It seems so silly now) Dad was at work, and Mom had taken Ponyboy with her to the store. They had stupidly left me and Soda alone in the house.**_

" _ **What d'you wanna do?" I asked.**_

" _ **Why do we have to do much of anything?" Soda seemed happy to sit and draw on the sidewalk with chalk.**_

" _ **Nobody's home, Soda. We can do**_ anything _ **."**_

 _ **That seemed to get his attention. He looked up, a wicked grin crossing his face. "Anything?"**_

" _ **Anything."**_

 _ **We tore through the front door into the kitchen.**_

" _ **We should make cake!" Soda shouted, pulling chocolate frosting out of the fridge.**_

" _ **How d'you even do that?" But I was getting down a mixing bowl and spoons anyway.**_

" _ **We'll figure it out."**_

 _ **Thirty very messy minutes later, we'd gotten flour and sugar and eggs all over the floor. The kitchen looked like it'd been hit by a tornado.**_

 _ **I threw a glob of chocolate icing into Soda's face.**_

 _ **He wiped it out of his eyes, stuck it in his mouth, and grabbed some flour and eggs off the floor to throw at me.**_

 _ **That's when the all out food fight started.**_

 _ **Frosting, sugar, eggs, flour, cake mix, everything that was smeared all over the counters and floor, was now smeared all over us too as we laughed and shouted and threw things, slipping and falling in the mess.**_

 _ **After a while, we both fell over next to each other and decided not to get up. Curling up together, both of us throwing our arm around the other and holding each other close, just like we did in bed every night, we fell asleep.**_

 _XxXxX_

 _Yay! Hope you enjoyed that! I've been waiting for an opportunity to use 'hi, I'm Motley. Have we met?'. I said pretty much the same thing to my dad a little while ago when he asked me to be responsible, and I've been wanting to fit it somewhere ever since._

 _AREN'T SODA AND MOTLEY CUTE TOGETHER?_

 ** _PLEASE REVIEW!_**


	16. My Move Now Darry

_Author's note: I'm just gonna ask all y'all not to hate me in advance. 'Kay? 'Kay._

 **Disclaimer: Nothing's mine. 'Cept Motley.**

 _ **Chapter 16: My Move Now, Darry**_

MOTLEY'S POV

I woke up smiling. It doesn't get any better than that. Thank you, Dallas.

You wouldn't believe how much I wished we could go back. Not to just before the last few weeks, but to eight months ago, before Mom and Dad died. Before this whole mess started.

I wanted to go back to when Soda and I were closer than close, inseparable, practically joined at the hip. Back to before life was complicated by women and death and socs and greasers. Back to when we were all just kids, able to do what we wanted, have friends from whatever side of town we wanted. My best friend in elementary school had been from the westside. The minute we went into junior high, he didn't want anything to do with me anymore. Because he was a _**soc**_ and I was a _**greaser.**_

Back to when Darry and I were so close that we could talk about anything.

I just wanted so badly to _**go back**_. So badly it was almost like a constant ache in my chest.

I glanced around my room and jumped so bad I fell right off the bed when I saw Darry sitting next to me.

"Holy shit, Darry!" I rubbed my head, which had hit the nightstand on my way down, looking up at him from the floor. "Don't do that!"

"Sorry." he said sheepishly, holding his hand out to help me up.

I ignored it and climbed to my feet on my own. I didn't want any more of his help. He'd done enough. I shook my head to clear it. Note to self: don't hit head on nightstand in future.

"Didja need somethin', or do you just like wakin' me up starin' at me all creepy like?"

He was watching me in confusion. "You were smiling."

"What?"

"In your sleep. You were smiling."

"Well, I actually managed to have a dream about somethin' decent for once. Can't a guy smile a little?"

"What'd ya dream about?"

"Just somethin' I remember from a long time ago." I said quietly, thinking back. To have just one more day...

I snapped out of it. This wasn't something I wanted to share with him.

"Either way, you're in my room, and you weren't invited. So, if you would do me the service of leaving, that would be tuff."

"Motley-"

"I wanna go get a shower, and I don't want you in my room while I ain't here, so get out."

I guess he knew I was dead serious, 'cause he stood up with a sigh and left the room.

After my shower, I wandered out into the living room. I knew I really should put in an appearance at school, but I just didn't feel like it. Maybe I'd go after lunch. Maybe I'd feel like it then.

Soda and Ponyboy and Darry were already gone, and I once again had the house all to myself. The question was, what to do with my time? Glory, I might have to go to school now. Just to give myself something to do, if nothing else.

Sighing, I went and got some clothes on. It's not like I could go to school in just a towel.

Though, to be fair, I'd be an even huger hit with the chicks than I already was if I did that.

How long had it been since I had a steady girlfriend, anyhow? Looking back, it hit me that it'd been eight months. I'd broken up with my girlfriend Rebecca three days before my parents died.

Long story short on that relationship, she was too needy and a bit of a bitch. I was only with her 'cause things were better in the beginning.

Don't get me wrong, it hadn't been eight months since I'd had sex. There'd been one night stands when I was too drunk to tell one end of a switchblade from another, weekend flings when all I wanted to do was piss Darry off by disappearing for forty-eight hours and returning with nothing but a hickey as an explanation.

Don't tell anyone, 'cause it'd ruin my rep, but I hadn't intended for those to be flings. I'd gone with chicks that I considered serious girlfriend material, making Darry mad simply being my extra incentive for something I was thinking about doing anyhow. Problem was, the personality type I went for were the ones who never seemed to be looking for a committed relationship and were out the door in the morning before I could even suggest letting it be something more. So flings they were and flings they'd remain.

And the ones where I was drunk? Well, if I'm being honest, I never remembered getting in bed with any of them. I'd just wake up in the morning with a raging headache and somebody next to me. They also made it obvious they'd gotten what they came for and they didn't want any more.

So I was single. Too bad, really. I needed a new girl. Maybe I needed to expand my tastes some. Go for chicks who weren't so much like me.

XxXxX

I'd be willing to swear the universe hates me. And I mean _**really**_ hates me.

To the point that it cursed me this way.

Let me explain.

I sauntered into math class, slipping into my seat in the back, startling the shit out of Steve, who was my desk partner. He jumped so bad he almost fell off his seat.

"Motley Curtis. So kind of you to join us." My teacher wasn't pleased. "It's been quite a while since we've seen you in here."

Okay, so it _had_ been about a month since I'd been to school. Sue me. Two-Bit convincing the pretty blonde secretary to change the records to say I was here was the only reason the state hadn't come down on our necks about it. Stupid, I know, but since when have I been known for using my head? You think Ponyboy's bad? You should get a load of me.

"You should feel blessed I graced you with my presence."

The teacher simply shook his head, stood up, and started handing out worksheets. "This is just more practice of what we did yesterday. Ms. Bryant will be happy to help you if you have any questions."

I leaned over to Steve. "Who the shit is Ms. Bryant?"

"New student teacher. Broads a ten. It's the blonde sitting at that table over there."

I looked over. Oh, **_hell_** no.

"You have _**got**_ to be shittin' me." I muttered.

"What?"

"That's Cealia. Darry's girl."

Steve looked over with renewed interest. "So _that's_ what the chick looks like. I really can't blame Darry for takin' her out. I tried to pick her up first time she came into class."

"Ain't you still goin' steady with Evie?"

"We decided to back off a bit. It's more of a casual relationship now. And if you think I ain't gonna take advantage of that, you're smokin' somethin'."

"Smooth, Steve. Real smooth."

"You're one to talk. I think you've done every girl in this room."

I looked around, determined to prove him wrong. For a second there, I thought I was out of luck. The class was mostly boys, and I _**had**_ done the few girls in the room. Then I found my answer.

"Not glasses and braces over in the corner. What's her name?"

"I dunno. Julie? Jenny? Starts with a J and ends with a E."

"Jenny doesn't end with an E."

"Oh, shut up." He wasn't angry. He was grinning.

"Ahem."'

We both whipped around. We hadn't noticed Cealia coming up behind us.

"Are you aware you're disrupting the whole room?" she asked cooly. You'd think she didn't recognize me. But something about the look in her eyes told me otherwise.

"Yeah, bitch? What ya gonna do about it?"

Half the class burst out laughing, being a room with mostly greasers. The other half stared at me like they couldn't believe I'd had the nerve to do that.

The teacher - probably should mention it's a dude. Mr. Lemon. Nice name, huh? - stared at me like I was from Mars.

Cealia's eyes hardened. "Come to the principal's office with me. We're gonna call Darrel."

I scoffed as I stood up. "You don't even call him the right name."

She didn't answer me, simply pushed me in the back to get me moving.

"Tuff one, Curtis." I heard one of Shepard's boys call out behind me.

I sat and waited in a chair in the office for Darry to show, Cealia standing next to me as if she expected me to stage a jailbreak.

Like she could stop me if I tried.

Ten minutes later, Darry walked in, and he was _**steamed**_. "Motley Ace, what the hell?" Then he saw Cealia. "Hey. I didn't know you were his student teacher."

"Neither did I. I've only been here for a month, and he hasn't shown up the whole time."

That only served to make him angrier. "You haven't been to school in a _**month**_?"

"I plead the fifth."

"Well, at least he knows that much." Cealia muttered.

"Hey, it's the most important amendment. Well, one of the most important. There's also the one about search and seizure and the right to bear arms. And free speech ain't half bad either."

"Mr. Curtis?" the secretary interrupted us. "If you'd like to use the vice principal's office for this discussion, it's free."

It still weirded me out to hear Darry referred to as Mr. Curtis. That was Dad, not Darry.

I guess they thought Cealia was enough authority to handle the problem, 'cause the vice principal simply told her to give out whatever punishment she deemed appropriate and left.

"Motley, you listen to me. I know we've met each other outside school, but personal relationships are not going to enter this building. In here, it's not whatever insult you happen to come up with. It's Ms. Bryant. Do you understand?"

I cocked my head sideways, cupping my hand around my ear. "Sorry? Didn't catch that. I don't speak shithole." There was something so satisfying about taking my anger out on her. This was all her fault. If it weren't for her, Darry would still love me the same as he always had. There wouldn't be anybody in the picture taking the love that was meant for me. That I deserved.

Wow. I sound like a spoiled brat, don't I? Besides, I'm wrong.

I don't deserve any love at all.

She raised an eyebrow. "Funny you don't speak your own language."

Oh, it's on, bitch.

"You would know."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I think you know exactly what it means, dumbass."

"Takes one to know one."

"What is this, first grade?"

"You'd think so, with how you're acting."

"You'd know a lot about acting, wouldn't you? Acting like you love my brother when you ain't good enough for him, you whore."

"Says the one I think I heard say he's banged every girl in the room except one."

"Jealousy shows itself in many ways."

"If anyone's jealous, it's you. Jealous that you're brother loves me more than you."

Had he said that? Had he actually said that to her?

"Cealia," Darry said tentatively, "maybe you should just…"

She turned to him, eyes flashing. "Are you seriously going to take this piece of trash's side?"

Darry paused, telling me all I needed to know. So I simply opened my mouth and continued, not giving him a chance to actually say it.

"Yeah, yeah, you think that means shit to me? I don't need him. I don't need anybody."

"You go ahead and tell yourself that. When you do what we all know you should, Darry and me'll throw a party."

"And just what the shit is it that I'm supposed to do?"

"Follow your friend. Too bad your stunt with the pills didn't work. Maybe next time you should go through with what you were thinkin' about before. Take a flying leap off the 11th street bridge."

I froze, turning my gaze to Darry. "You told her?" I don't think I've ever sounded so hurt in my life. That was personal, to the point that I almost hadn't told Darry at all. And he'd gone and told this… this…

"Motley, it was just in passing. We were talking, and it came up."

I shook my head slowly. I couldn't trust _**anyone**_ with anything anymore. It's like Dallas always said. Trust is for suckers. "That's it." I stood up, brushed past them both and stalked out of the school, not stopping to listen to the secretary tell me to get back here, not stopping for Darry, begging me to come back. Not stopping for anything.

My mind was made up.

My move now, Darry.

 _Glory, I'm gonna have to work really hard to redeem poor Darry in the next story I write._

 ** _PLEASE REVIEW!_**


	17. YOU FAILED ME

_Author's note: So, I meant to wish all y'all a happy Steve's birthday last time, but I forgot, so happy belated Steve's birthday. April 15th, man._

 _Unfortunately, we have come to the final chapter of our story. Thank you all for the reviews and for just reading even if you didn't review. I've worked really hard on this, and I hope you all enjoyed it. My mom and kid brother spent a lot of time making fun of me for writing things using other people's characters, so just know that I am persecuted for my craft, but I think it's worth it for all y'all. You make this worth it._

 **Disclaimer: Nothing's mine but Motley**

 ** _Chapter 17: YOU FAILED ME_**

MOTLEY'S POV

Halfway home, I ran into my next-least-favorite-chick, Sylvia. I'd never understood what Dallas saw in her. I mean, they had an on-again off-again relationship, so obviously he didn't see _**too**_ much in her, but enough to get on top of her every chance he got. Not my type, honestly. Nice rack, but her ass was as flat as a two-by-four.

"Oh! Motley! How are you?"

Another example of how completely insensitive this bitch was. "How the shit do you think?"

She sighed. "I know. I miss him too."

"Like shit. You just liked riding him."

I'd struck a cord there. "Oh, here we go with the 'you're a slut' thing. You ain't so innocent yourself, y'know."

"I never said I'm innocent. I'm just sayin' you ain't either."

She conceded. "That's a fair point. We're both sluts. What else is new?"

See how I managed to inadvertently gain myself a rep as a fast and loose, easy sex guy? It was the girls who were sluts, not me. I wanted something more.

Though, to be fair, maybe I shouldn't've put out on the first date. Or right after I ran into them at Buck's.

Suddenly, I actually did wanna hang with Sylvia. Just to talk at someone, if nothing else.

"You wanna go get a drink or somethin'?"

She raised an eyebrow.

"It ain't nothin' like that." I said in exasperation, realizing what she thought I meant. "I just wanna go drink myself stupid, and you know Buck. If I'm alone, he'll limit what he'll let me have. If I'm with someone, there'll be more booze than Two-Bit could drink."

She liked that. She liked it _**a lot**_. "Alright. Let's go."

XxXxX

Hours later, I couldn't see straight. And neither could Sylvia. I unloaded everything on her. I told her about Darry and his chick, the pills, the dreams, the fights, _**everything**_.

Happy now, Dallas? I trusted somebody with personal shit other than you and Ponyboy and Soda.

Finally, glancing up at the clock, I saw that it was three. I only had an hour before Soda would be home from work, and then I'd miss my window. I needed to go now.

"Either way, thanks for listening, Syl. I gotta go now, though. You look after yourself, y'here? If ya'd just settle down, you could have somethin'."

She looked at me funny. "Why're you talkin' like that?"

"I'm leavin', Syl. I'm leavin', and I ain't comin' back."

She was actually speechless for a minute. For a whole minute, Sylvia Clarissa Jensen was speechless.

I guess I can cross that off my bucket list.

"Glory. I knew this is buggin' the shit outta you, but you're actually gonna leave?"

I nodded. "I've had enough. I ain't stickin' around for this bullshit. I can write Soda and Ponyboy. But I'm done with Darry. I just can't do this anymore."

She sat there, digesting it. "I guess that makes sense."

"Of course it does. Either way, I'd say see ya later, but I guess I won't." And I turned and left.

DARRY'S POV

I left work early and went to pick up Soda when he was finished. We needed to talk about Motley. I'd been thinking over the last thing he said, and it didn't imply good things.

Soda was surprised to see me there, to say the least. "Darry? The hell're you doin' here?"

"We got a problem."

He frowned at me accusingly as he got in. "What'd you do this time?"

"You automatically assume I did somethin'."

"Well, ya did, didn'tja?"

My silence was answer enough for him. He just shook his head at me.

And somebody ran right into the side of the car. Who the hell manages to run into a parked car?

Sylvia, of all people, yanked Soda's door open. "Soda." She panted. "You need to - go home- and stop Motley - before he leaves."

"What?"

"I was - talkin' to him - at Buck's. He asked - me to come - 'cause he wanted to - drink himself stupid - and Buck gets - stingy when - you're alone. He told me - everything. The fighting, everything. Then he - told me he was - leaving and that he - wasn't coming back."

Soda went white. "Thanks, Sylvia. Step on it, Darry!"

Sylvia shut the door and I floored it.

I think I broke my land-speed record on the way home, pushing 90 the whole way. I couldn't lose him. Not now. Not after everything we'd been through in the past year. Losing our parents, thinking I'd lost Ponyboy… it'd been hell on Earth. I couldn't lose Motley too.

Soda'd already left the car and was in the house calling Motley's name before I'd even completely stopped the car. I hated it when he jumped out of moving vehicles - happens more often than you'd think - but I didn't have it in me to say anything about it just then, considering that was exactly what I would've done if I were in his position. As it was, I barely got the car in park before I jumped out and ran in too, leaving the door wide open.

I headed through to Motley's room, figuring that was the place to start.

I've bugged Motley for eight months to clean his room. He never has. Not once. He doesn't care enough to. Occasionally he'll put a couple things away when you can barely see the floor anymore through all the stuff. Don't get me wrong, his dirty clothes aren't all over the place, he isn't that kind of slob. He dutifully dumps all that stuff in the washer. It was his clean clothes that were always in a jumbled pile next to his dresser. He'd just pick up off the floor whatever was at the top and wear that for the day. Then there were all the magazines. School books in random places on the floor. Unfinished homework assignments that would never see the light of day again. Cartons of unused cigarettes to just pick up like the clothes.

Except half of that mess was missing.

The clothes were gone, the many cigarettes were nowhere to be seen, the photographs he'd had on the dresser were gone.

Soda was just kneeling there in the middle of the floor looking like he was about to keel over and die, a couple of the scattered papers clutched so tightly in his hands that they'd crumpled past recognition, almost like he thought that if he held onto them tight enough, he could somehow hold onto his twin. Make him stay.

I put a hand on his shoulder, but he jerked away. He stood up and headed into the other room. I followed.

And there, on the table, was the last thing Motley wanted me to know. The only one of the photographs in his room that he'd left behind.

He'd taken the one of him with Soda when they were three, curled up in bed, asleep with their arms around each other. He'd taken the picture of him and Mom, smiling while doing heaven knows what outside when he was ten. Something that got them both covered in mud. He'd taken the one of him helping Ponyboy fix his bike. Neither of them knew they were being watched. He'd taken the one with Dad giving him The Lord of the Rings trilogy for his birthday.

The one he hadn't taken was the one of him and me.

Sitting there, in the very middle of the table, was the picture Dad had taken at my state football championship my senior year. Motley had said he was gonna be just like me and win state football championships too. He was wearing my jersey, not seeming to care it was covered in grass and dirt and sweat and blood. But the picture didn't look like it used to. If I had to guess, I'd say he'd thrown it against the wall, half the glass shattered and nowhere to be seen. It looked like he'd cut himself on it, blood spattered across our smiling faces.

And right across the whole thing, in thick letters obviously done with permanent marker, were three simple words.

 **YOU FAILED ME**

XxXxX

 ** _THE END_**

 ** _So, how do you guys feel about a sequel? Or should we just leave it at that and accept that, sometimes, stories don't end the way we want them to. The more reviews I get in favor of something continuing Motley's story, the faster I'll get onto it. Or even do it at all. Really, it's up to you guys._**


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